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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25577692">Still Falling For You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Charmers [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Hunk (Voltron), Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Bullshit Science, Childbirth, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Friendship, Graphic Description, Happy Birthday Lance (Voltron), Intersex, JuLance Challenge 2020, M/M, Monsters &amp; Mana (Voltron), Mpreg, Omega Keith (Voltron), Omega Lance (Voltron), Omega Verse, Omegaverse Biology</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:22:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>222,101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25577692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after the events of Happy Endings, Lance and Keith are well into their training for the careers they chose instead of the ones that chose them.  They're both pet parents with happy marriages.  But life has some more surprises in store for both of them, and some of those surprises are coming courtesy of the stork.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Acxa/Narti (Voltron), Adam/Curtis (Voltron), Allura/Shay (Voltron), Colleen Holt/Sam Holt, Coran/Dayak (Voltron), Hunk/Keith (Voltron), Kuro/Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance/Shiro (Voltron), Matt Holt &amp; Ryan Kinkade, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Charmers [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: These Are the Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I seriously considered calling this 'All Of The Babies' because that's kind of what happens, and also because none of the fairy tale titles I was coming up with were working.  Finally I decided to break with that and go with a song title.  This fic isn't based on the movie that song is from exactly, but I did use a lot of the tropes from movies with similar plot elements, like I did with the previous fics.  In the previous fics I was deliberately vague about certain aspects of omegaverse biology, because I know people have different preferred headcanons for that and I wanted to leave the details just blurry enough so that people could envision what they wanted in certain scenes, but when you have a situation where other human beings are coming out of your characters you kind of have to get more specific, so there will be some omega biology elements in this one that were not in the previous ones.  I originally envisioned this as nine chapters with a prologue and epilogue, then thought it might turn out to be eleven full chapters when I saw how long the prologue was going to be.  Then I found out that the prologue was still a prologue, it was just a long one, because the chapters are even longer.  So now this is nine chapters with a prologue.  Just be aware, the chapters after this one are comparatively pretty long.  I'm actually still cleaning up the final chapter as I write this, usually I'd have done more edits first but I had hoped to post on Lance's birthday and didn't want to miss it, so here we go.  I might have an epilogue in me after that, I'm not sure yet though.</p>
<p>Shout out to luminiferousaether for putting the idea of Matt in a Sam Winchester Halloween costume in my mind.  :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Lance scooped steam across the surface of the saucepan, waving it towards his face to take in the aromas from the simmering tomato sauce.  It was reducing beautifully.  He put the lid back on the saucepan.  It was time to put another pot on the hob to get the pasta ready.  He filled the straining stockpot at the island sink and gave it plenty of salt before hauling it onto a gas burner to boil.</p>
<p>Normally there would be a fluffy goofball twining sinuously between Lance’s legs whenever he stood in one place for this amount of time, but Lance had not been alone in the kitchen so Atlas had made himself scarce.  Sharing the six-burner rangetop with his two cook pots was a cooling milk pan of tisane, which Haruka had been in the process of making using fresh leaves harvested from a plant in the brownstone’s rooftop container garden, before Midori’s cries on the baby monitor had distracted her.  With a mummy-like shuffle, Haruka had immediately left off preparing her tisane and begun warming a bag of expressed breast milk in a bowl of heated water on the kitchen island.  Midori’s 100 days celebration had been the previous week, but of course she hadn’t actually eaten any of the foods her parents had ceremonially served to her adorable little self.  Haruka and Kai’s baby still much preferred breast milk and the occasional spot of formula, and would probably not eat solid food for real for another month or two at least.</p>
<p>Lance could probably thank her feeding schedule and Haruka’s subsequent sleep-deprived state for him being given complete free reign in the kitchen to prepare his own anniversary dinner.  She now trusted him to help her cook and clean, but this being such a momentous occasion, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave it to Lance alone if not for the fact that she kept forgetting things lately.  Shiro had originally planned to take him out someplace super fancy, except his heat smell had come on a little earlier than expected.  There was zero chance of him suddenly going into a full blown heat in public thanks to the suppressant shots administered by the awesome Doctor Gorma, but his scent would still draw attention which had the potential to ruin their evening, so Lance had lobbied for a romantic dinner in the garden instead.  It was coming up on his thirteenth week since his last shot – he’d had to reschedule his appointment thanks to a traffic jam, and thank heaven once again for his cell phone – but Dr. Gorma had assured him that while his usual symptoms might intensify, the chances of him developing sudden onset estrus were still very low, so all Lance was worried about right then was putting the finishing touches on dinner and getting the garden ready for romance.</p>
<p>The patio heater would ensure that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable to go outside under the autumn stars.  Candles and dusk-to-dawn lanterns would light the scene on the patio.  Oh yes, lessons had been learned on the night of infamy known as Keith’s bachelor party.  Maybe not the precise lessons that Shiro would have preferred, but they had been learned.  There would also be some frilly table linens Lance had found in the basement laundry room, some Puccini on the bluetooth stereo speaker, and a really nice bottle of Sangiovese that he should uncork soon so that it had time to breathe before Shiro got home. </p>
<p>And there would be Lance’s home cooking.  Once they found out he was making an anniversary dinner by himself, all of his friends and family had an opinion on what romantic dish they thought he should prepare, but Lance had already made up his mind.  He was making Mima’s recipe of spaghetti alla puttanesca cubano.  She had reverse-engineered it from a dish that she’d had at an Italian restaurant where Pipo took her for their twenty-first wedding anniversary, given it a few of her own signature flourishes, and then taught it to Mamá, who had passed the recipe along to her children.  If that didn’t confer some marriage luck so that a man could get lucky then Lance didn’t know what would.</p>
<p>Midori’s cries had calmed to discontented fussing on the baby monitor, Haruka’s voice a soothing coo that Lance would have never expected to hear from her.  Parenthood did interesting things to people.  Veronica and Dorma had turned into a pair of fussbudgets since the birth of their son Socrates.  Two women who used to go outdoors adventuring with only the vaguest of plans now couldn’t leave home without first consulting their diaper bag checklist.  Matt and Ryan had one due any day now, and Pidge complained daily on their gaming group’s voice channel about how Matt wouldn’t go anywhere without his birth plan in triplicate stowed somewhere on his person in a waterproof bag.</p>
<p>Lance wouldn’t be joining their party on campaign tonight, though, nor would Shiro.  With some help from Mima’s recipe, they’d be traveling on down to sexytown.  Lance danced in front of the rangetop to a mambo playing in his mind as he added the pasta to the boiling water.  The bond link had mellowed a bit over their first year of marriage, but Shiro was close enough that Lance could feel his eagerness to get home.  There would be no working late tonight, only late night workouts, because if it worked for Lady and Tramp then it could dang sure work for them too.</p>
<p>Haruka stumbled back into the kitchen as Midori continued to fuss over the baby monitor.  Lance’s old room had been partially transformed into a changing room, but Midori still slept in a convertible crib in the garden floor apartment because Haruka was adamant that she should not sleep in a nursery all by herself.  Haruka went to the sterilizing and drying machine on the kitchen counter and took out a clean nursing bottle, then brushed past Lance in front of the rangetop and picked up the pot of tisane.</p>
<p>“Uh... Haruka....”</p>
<p>“Not now Lance, the baby is hungry.”</p>
<p>In a fog of muscle memory, she poured the tisane into the bottle and attached the nipple.</p>
<p>“Haruka, that’s not milk.”</p>
<p>“What?”  Haruka held the glass bottle up before her eyes and saw golden tisane instead of breast milk.  “Dō shiyō!”  She threw back her head and made a noise of sheer frustration.  Midori’s cries suddenly ramped up again adding to the general state of caterwauling.</p>
<p>“Don’t cry, Haruka.”  Lance took the bottle of tisane out of her lax hands.  “Your milk is still ready in the bowl, see there?  Just take out a fresh clean bottle, and I’ll take care of this one for you.”</p>
<p>“You will?” Haruka asked tearfully.</p>
<p>Lance nodded.</p>
<p>“Okay.”  Haruka did as suggested, taking a fresh bottle out of the sterilizing dryer and the neatly date-stamped milk bag out of the bowl on the island.</p>
<p>“You want me to save this herb tea for you?” Lance asked.</p>
<p>Haruka shook her head as she sealed the fresh bottle of milk and gave it a little shake to redistribute the fats.  “It steeped too long.  You can go ahead and pour it down the drain.”</p>
<p>Lance watched her return to the garden floor apartment and then opened the bottle to clean it.  The smell rising up from the tisane was kind of like flaxseed oil with a hint of mint.  He’d been curious as to what this stuff tasted like.  Haruka swore by it as a health tonic, and Kai and Shiro drank it up too on the rare occasions when they were sick.  Instead of pouring it down the drain, Lance poured it into a tea cup and took a sip.  It tasted a lot like flax cereal.</p>
<p>He set about re-sterilizing the bottle as he finished off the tisane.  It didn’t taste bad, and it was supposed to be good for you.  Why let it go to waste just because it brewed a little too strong?</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro rushed inside the parlor floor door and dashed up the stairs and down the hall into the master bedroom.  He could feel Lance’s eagerness to get the evening started, and as soon as he got inside he caught his scent, too.  Syrupy, gingery.  It was a very good thing they hadn’t made reservations with him smelling like that.  Lance would have wound up a social media starlet again for certain, and just when the whole Party Omega thing was finally starting to fade from public consciousness.</p>
<p>Shiro set the bouquet of flowers down on the bed and started to divest himself of his suit, then changed his mind, deciding he could wear a suit in his own backyard if he wanted to.  He rummaged impatiently in the bedroom safe for Lance’s present.  If he could have spent the whole day at home, he would have, but unfortunately he was still shorthanded at work.  He’d promoted Omnia to office manager in optimistic expectation of hiring a new executive secretary, and then been unable to find one who could meet the very high bar set by their predecessor.</p>
<p>He’d had Rachel filling in for months, and she had taken on the full time role so well that he would have promoted her with no second thoughts, but in August she’d started her first semester at The New School and thus had to go back to part time hours again.  Daniel was completing the final year of his BBA through Macaulay Honors College and was well into his advanced course work, so he couldn’t afford to give more hours than he was already putting in.  Darrell telecommuted from Baltimore and was proving far too valuable in that flexible role for Shiro to want to chain him to a desk in New York.  They’d had a revolving parade of temps and interns coming in to pick up the slack while Shiro tried to make up his mind whether he should keep looking for needles in a haystack.</p>
<p>The problem wasn’t due to any lack of intelligence or talent.  If he was being perfectly honest with himself it was because he’d grown spoiled with subordinates who were like family to him, and he was having trouble with the idea that he should permanently hire someone who was very capable but who wanted nothing more from him than a paycheck and a reference.  Another issue was the recent change to Shiro’s mission statement as an activist shareholder.  It was true that creation held more immediate personal rewards and the potential for more financial long-term rewards than destruction did, but he couldn’t deny that destruction had made the most expedient use of the resources he’d been commanding up ‘til that point in time.</p>
<p>At least Shiro had been able to put a good law firm on retainer again.  Dayak’s son Drake had followed his father into the legal profession, becoming a partner at a mid-sized full-service law firm capable of handling the majority of issues Shiro encountered throughout the course of his work.  Speaking of aides and family, though.  Daniel had waylaid him for his opinion on his way out of the office.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Do you think she’ll like it?”</em>
</p>
<p>Cluster ring settings weren’t to everyone’s tastes, but Shiro had a feeling that Rachel would love the one Daniel had picked out.  She was living proof that a romantic soul could belong to a rational mind, and now he had to keep this a secret from her brother until Daniel found the guts to pop the question.  Hopefully he wouldn’t wait too long.  Shiro honestly didn’t think he could keep Lance from catching on for longer than a couple of weeks.  He closed the safe and strode back down the stairs, present in one hand and bouquet in the other.  </p>
<p>The thump of eager paws met him as he tread past the parlor floor landing.  Shiro heard a mew he interpreted as ‘where the hell have you been’ before the Ragdoll kitten took a flying leap from the parlor floor into his arms like Streaky the Supercat.  At eleven months-old he was only about a quarter of the way through his growth cycle, as Ragdolls matured slower than other breeds, but he was not small.  When Shiro and Lance had gotten home from their honeymoon they’d been put on a waiting list to get a kitten from a Ragdoll rescue organization and told it might take a little while but assured they’d be needed eventually.  Four months later they’d gotten the call to pick up a three month-old kitten, surrendered to the organization when his previous family found out that Ragdolls actually did shed just like other long-haired cats.</p>
<p>Shiro used the gift box to skritch Atlas – named due to his size as well as his predilection for riding around on his humans’ shoulders and sleeping on their backs – behind one of his fluffy cream-colored ears.  “I’ve been working, what have you been doing?”  Atlas had probably been surveying his upper floors kingdom and staying out of Haruka’s way.  His accouterments had been banished from the garden floor during her pregnancy to reduce the risk of toxoplasmosis.  Technically Atlas himself was not banished from the garden floor, but he was a smart cat so he’d taken the hint.</p>
<p>Cat in overburdened arms, Shiro followed his nose down to the garden level, through the narrow hall, past the dimly lit kitchen and out into the back garden.  Lance had been getting creative out there, moving some of the potted plants around to make an intimate green barrier for the outdoor table, which he’d set with tea table linens.  Solar-powered garden lanterns lit a path through the mulched flower beds and potted plants to the table, where two hurricane lamps cast protected candlelight over the place settings.  More solar lanterns dangled from the bare branches of the cherry tree, limning Lance’s form in soft outline as he stood over a bluetooth speaker while fiddling with his phone.  Soon, La Bohème burst forth from the speaker in a cheerful cacophony of singers bitching about the weather in recitative song.</p>
<p>He looked up from his task and smiled to find Shiro standing there with a cat draped from elbow to elbow while both of his hands were occupied.  Lance still had on his black Oriande shirt, so it seemed that Shiro was not the only one who had spent part of his day attending to work matters.  The pyramid patio heater flickered a vertical flame, keeping the garden warm enough for both of them to be comfortable in their shirtsleeves if they so desired.</p>
<p>Lance stepped up to him, hands out.  “Here, let me take those for you.”</p>
<p>“Thanks.”  </p>
<p>Lance took the box and the bouquet, setting the first down on top of a leather portfolio laid across the seat of a wrought iron chair.  He unwrapped the second from its tissue and placed it in a watering can.  “Pansies?”  He closed his eyes as he took in the scent of the delicate blooms.</p>
<p>“They’re one of the traditional flowers for the first anniversary.”  Or so the florist had assured him.</p>
<p>“They’re beautiful.”  Lance fed the flowers from the stone basin water feature near the garden’s back wall and brought them back to the table.</p>
<p>“You’re beautiful,” Shiro said, setting the cat down on another wrought iron chair and taking his spouse into his arms.</p>
<p>Lance smiled up at him.  “You’re honeying me up.”</p>
<p>Shiro slipped a blue pansy out of the watering can and tucked it behind Lance’s ear.  “Sweets for the sweet.”</p>
<p>Lance laughed, and Shiro tasted his sweet laughter in the first of many kisses, which broke only when it became necessary to chase Atlas away from the table.</p>
<p>“He must be smelling the anchovies in the sauce,” Lance said, lifting the lid on a chafing dish to reveal pasta in a red sauce that wafted a heavenly scent, though how Atlas could have smelled it with the lid on was a complete mystery to Shiro.</p>
<p>Lance served them each a bowl of warm pasta as Shiro poured the wine, and they sat down to enjoy a good meal and each other’s undivided attention while Atlas leaped about amongst the potted plants batting at leaves.  The pasta was pugnaciously delicious and Shiro said so, earning a big rosy-cheeked smile that told him how much that comment was appreciated.  They whiled a little time sharing stories of their workdays, Shiro carefully avoiding mentioning Daniel for fear he’d accidentally let something slip.  Luckily Lance was too preoccupied by his own morning’s events to notice that Shiro had left his sister’s boyfriend, usually a reliable source of repeatable antics, out of his day’s accounting.  </p>
<p>“I passed my classic techniques practicum,” Lance said as he twirled pasta around his fork.  “Romelle said I can start my advanced techniques practicum next week.  I could have my cosmetology license before the year is out!”</p>
<p>“Honey that’s wonderful news.”</p>
<p>Lance had worked so diligently for this, and not just at the cosmetology school.  He’d been going to the karate dojo with Shiro just like he’d promised, and he’d proven he could put in the practice.  Sensei Tetsuya had recently promoted him to orange belt, taking him out of the beginner classes.  He’d trained and tested alongside much younger disciples, despite that he could have as easily honored their deal by taking private classes, or even by joining his sister at the Wing Chun kwoon that Daniel went to and recommended.  He’d wanted to advance fast enough to reassure Shiro that he could handle himself on the subway, and he’d wanted to ensure that Shiro could witness his progress.</p>
<p>“I’d like to propose a toast.”  Shiro topped off his wine glass and reached for Lance’s.</p>
<p>“Sweet!”  Lance passed his wine glass over and accepted the refill from Shiro’s hand.  “What are we toasting?”</p>
<p>“To personal growth.”  Shiro held up his glass.  “May we continue growing together throughout our marriage.”</p>
<p>“I’ll drink to that.”</p>
<p>They clinked glasses and contentedly finished their dinners.  Then Lance brought out dessert: hulled and halved strawberries and fresh whipped cream, with a chilled half bottle of Sauternes.  They decided to go ahead and open the presents, before they got too tipsy.  Once they started getting down to it they ran the risk of forgetting about the gifts and leaving them outside all night to potentially get rained on.  The first anniversary was the paper anniversary, so if Lance had gone with tradition, then leaving it outside could prove disastrous if it rained.</p>
<p>The leather portfolio turned out to be Lance’s gift for Shiro.  “Thank you honey.”  He ran his fingers over the supple material.  “This would be perfect for transporting sheet music.”</p>
<p>“It is,” Lance smirked.  “Look inside.”</p>
<p>Shiro opened the portfolio and found sheet music, the lithographic cover art and the vanillin scent rising off the oxidized paper testifying to it being vintage.  “The Rose Adagio for piano?”  Shiro eagerly shuffled through the pages.  “How did you find this?”</p>
<p>Lance shrugged, but he was clearly pleased with Shiro’s reaction.  “Went to lunch in the Village with Rachel, found a music store and lucked out.”</p>
<p>Shiro stood and pulled Lance out of his chair, loving the heat of his body so close, and so much warmer than what the patio heater was radiating.  His scent was a sweet counterpoint to the wonderful ‘old book smell’ of the gift.  “I’m the one who lucked out.”</p>
<p>Lance’s grin was bright as the stars at close range.  “You can go on thinking you’re the lucky one if you want to, but I know the truth.”</p>
<p>“Okay.”  Shiro kissed his smiling mouth.  “I will.”  He kissed him again.  “I got you something too.”  Reluctantly, he released Lance to pick up the box from the chair seat and hand it over.</p>
<p>Lance sat down to open the box, so Shiro retook his seat as well.  He could feel Lance’s curiosity across the bond at the sight of plain brown wrapping paper.  Then he felt that curiosity take on a tinge of amusement when he found a tome with a whimsical cover inside.</p>
<p>“Tales of Mother Goose?”  Lance lifted the book out of its wrappings with a bemused smile on his face.  “You trying to tell me something, querido?”</p>
<p>“Open it,” Shiro said.  He sipped his wine to cover his anticipation, even as he was aware that he probably wasn’t hiding much from his mate while sitting this close to him.</p>
<p>Lance opened the cover and his playful mood turned to surprise.  “Oh my God, Shiro!”  The book was hollow.  He lifted out a gold bracelet watch, glittering with pavé crystals.</p>
<p>“I can still get you the Tales of Mother Goose if you really want it,” Shiro joked, before he had a lapful of warm omega distracting him.</p>
<p>“You can get me Tales of Mother Goose for Christmas,” Lance said against his mouth.</p>
<p>“I’ll give you all the fairytales your heart desires,” Shiro promised, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight.  Lance rolled his body against him in a way that had him rumbling through another kiss.</p>
<p>“How about we clean up here and take the rest of our dessert upstairs?” Lance asked.</p>
<p>All that was left of the dessert was some whipped cream and Sauternes.</p>
<p>“Fuck yes.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance’s wine and dine plan had worked like a charm without him even needing to change into anything slinky first, which was fortunate, because there hadn’t been time for him to change into anything slinky.  Haruka’s tisane had made him pee like a racehorse, which wound up turning into a whole situation.  He’d then had to scramble to get the garden decorated before Shiro got home.  Forget about sliding into a slinky number.</p>
<p>Now he scrambled across sateen bedding in the master bedroom, sliding out of his clothes as he went and tossing them all willy nilly.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this urgently horny, and he had no time to process whether that was any cause for concern before Shiro was on him, molding himself across Lance’s back, pulling him up to nip at the claim mark high on his neck.  His hands spanned Lance’s rib cage, smoothing down to rub his most intimate places, where slick was running freely.  Lance felt cool cotton against his back.  He’d only managed to get Shiro’s jacket, tie and vest off of him on the way up the stairs, his hands partially occupied with carrying the remains of dessert.</p>
<p>“You’re still dressed,” Lance said.</p>
<p>“That’s never stopped us before.”</p>
<p>Lance squirmed in Shiro’s arms, pushing him back and sideways on the bed, which was plenty huge enough that he didn’t even come close to winding up on the floor.  He leaned over Shiro and started popping buttons, one at the time, revealing a little more of his marble pale torso with every pop.  Shiro skimmed his hands up the backs of Lance’s thighs to palm his bare ass.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to be so delicate.”  Shiro was definitely rumbling now.  “They’re just buttons.”</p>
<p>“You went mad that one time I ripped your shirt open and sent the buttons flying,” Lance teased.</p>
<p>“What?”  Shiro raised his upper body partially off the bed, abs tightening magnificently.  “I did not.”</p>
<p>Lance grinned, pushing the shirt off Shiro’s bunched shoulders since he’d so helpfully made that easier, and got started on his trousers.  “You even bit me.”</p>
<p>Shiro laughed, but it had a bit of an edge to it.  “You smartass.”</p>
<p>Shiro bucked to flip them so that he’d be on top, but Lance laughed and rolled off the bed, running over to the dresser for the whipped cream and dessert wine he’d set there when they’d tumbled into the bedroom together.  When he turned back around, Shiro was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a challenging expression.  </p>
<p>Shiro’s shirt on the floor suddenly mewed indignantly and scuttled in the direction of the cat cave bed next to the fireplace.  Shiro struggled to maintain his cool cat alpha expression while the cat cave bed wiggled as the shirt deflated in front of it.  Atlas’s fuzzy tail swished in agitation before disappearing inside of the felted wool cavern.</p>
<p>“Guess he told us.”  Lance walked up between Shiro’s spread thighs and dotted his nose with whipped cream.  “Alpha.”  He kissed off the dairy topping and licked his lips.</p>
<p>“Omega.”  Shiro pulled the bottle of Sauternes out of the loose finger-grip Lance had on it in order to balance the bowl of whipped cream in the palm of the same hand, and poured the remains of the sweet wine across Lance’s chest and belly.  “Oops.”</p>
<p>Lance looked down his glistening front and tsked.  “You made a mess.”</p>
<p>“Let me clean that up for you.”  Then Shiro applied the warm flat of his tongue to doing just that, as his strong arms caught Lance up in a tight hold.  The cool empty bottle against his spine kept Lance just present enough not to drop the bowl of whipped cream.  His knees began to tremble.  Shiro held him up easily, arm muscles flexed.</p>
<p>“All better.”  He gave each of Lance’s nipples one last tongue flick and then breathed deep.  “You smell so good.”</p>
<p>“Whoops.”  Lance let the bowl of whipped cream tip over to spill the fluffy white stuff on both of their crotches.  “Gosh, how are we gonna clean that up?”</p>
<p>Shiro looked down at the mess and smirked up at Lance, catching his meaning.  Though it took up a lot of floor space, there were advantages that made it worth having an enormous bed, and one of those advantages was the ability to lie comfortably head to foot with room to spare.  After they had composed themselves like a yin yang symbol, Lance wondered if Shiro might be getting the better end of this deal, as the alpha licked up whipped cream with slick and projected strong memories of butterscotch sundaes through the bond.  Then Lance got a hint of precum with his mouthful of whipped cream, and it hit that sweet and salty spot; like a salted mango, it was just right.</p>
<p>They went on enjoying each other this way for quite some time, until Lance’s skin felt hot as the surface of Venus and sweat began to soak the sheets.  He would have usually cum at least twice by this point, but for some reason his body kept going right to the edge and refusing to go over.  He could feel Shiro starting to grow concerned about it on the other end of the bond as he kept rearranging Lance’s leg over his head to reach more of his perineum.</p>
<p>“Honey, you’re hard as rock candy.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Lance groaned.  His privates felt like they were stretched tighter than a balloon animal.</p>
<p>Shiro curled his fingers up inside, and Lance clenched, both his walls around Shiro’s hand and his own hand around the base of Shiro’s cock.  Shiro cursed as his knot started to inflate, but Lance was not perturbed by this development because suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to find sweet relief.  He sat up and threw a leg over his mate, sinking back and down.  Shiro was well endowed, so it usually took a few glides to get all of him inside, but this time his entire length was swallowed up with no pause for adjustment.  Even the nascent knot went inside with a satisfying squelch.</p>
<p>Shiro reached for Lance’s cocklet, but Lance hardly noticed, his entire being focused on stroking himself from the inside.  Later, when he was nursing his sore muscles, it would occur to him that if he’d known he was going to wind up riding Shiro’s cock all night long, then he would have let Shiro get on top from the start so that he could do more of the heavy lifting.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro woke to cat breath in his face instead of to tunes he’d enjoyed in high school and college.  He may have briefly roused earlier to upbeat pop music and told the smart alarm clock to shut up, it was hard to remember clearly.  He felt bleary-eyed, and when he tried to sit up his stomach muscles complained as if he’d been doing hours of crunches.  He was going to need a gallon of coffee to see him out the door at – wow, was he ever late for work, good thing he was the boss.  Atlas leaped down from the bed mrowling for his breakfast, confident in a job well done in waking up the human.</p>
<p>Shiro scrubbed a hand through his hair and felt the grime of dried sweat letting him know that he was not going to get away with skipping a shower before heading out.  He shifted to look down at his mate in the bed beside him.  Lance was still fast asleep and had cocooned himself in the duvet.  Shiro laid a hand on his cheek.  He’d been hot as the sun as he relentlessly worked him over all night, both figuratively and literally.  </p>
<p>Lance’s skin was still toasty warm, but not like before.  Shiro brushed a palm over his forehead, ruffling sweaty bangs.  Lance purred but did not wake.  Shiro closed his eyes, tuning out other sensory data to focus on his sense of ‘Lance.’  Nothing felt amiss.</p>
<p>Shiro wished he’d had the presence of mind to check Lance like this the previous evening, but ah... he’d been extremely distracted.  It probably wouldn’t hurt anything to make some time later in the day to call Gorma’s office and nag his admin into rechecking his schedule for cancellations.  As he rose from the bed to feed Atlas, Shiro resolved to do just that.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance lounged in the ofuro soaking tub, hoping the Himalayan salt in the water would relax his overworked muscles and wishing he wasn’t lounging alone.  He did understand why Shiro couldn’t afford to take a lot of time off.  Between partnering with Hawkins Aircraft Company, backing Casa Bueno in Miami Beach, and overseeing all of his other ventures, Shiro didn’t have a lot of free time to spare lately.  He was only just barely able take enough time off to maintain his place as the Paladin in their Monsters &amp; Mana party.  Meanwhile, Lance was off until Friday, when he would be taking a weekend refresher course for his advanced practicum which started on Monday.</p>
<p>Since he did have some free time over the next couple of days, maybe he could finagle full kitchen privileges for a couple more home cooked meals.  That would give Haruka a much needed break as well.  Or maybe he could just order delivery and lure Shiro up to the rear parlor for a movie night. Students working in the school salon got to keep their tips, so he had enough cash to afford it.</p>
<p>His private planning sesh was interrupted by a curious miau.  He turned his head and saw Atlas peeking over the top step into the ofuro.  The cat had been cautious about jumping all the way up onto the top step ever since that one time when he slipped and got his fluffy tail wet.  However, he remained ever curious about the giant pot of water that the humans so willingly sat in, and would usually come in and observe them bathing from what he deemed to be a safe distance. </p>
<p>“What do you think Atlas, should we order some curry and stream one of those goofy action movies where the romantic leads fall towards each other in slo-mo, does that sound like a winner?”</p>
<p>Atlas meowed.  The guaranteed presence of warm laps to sit in meant he was in by default.  Lance’s phone rang.  He picked it up from the tub caddy where it rested on top of his hand towel. </p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p>It was Doctor Gorma’s office, asking if he wanted to move his appointment up to a week from Thursday at 5:30 pm.  They’d had a cancellation and could fit him in earlier.  Lance went ahead and confirmed the appointment.  His practicum let out around 4 pm unless he had a late customer, so he should be able to make it on time.  Only, this time he would hedge his bets by taking the subway.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith was running late.  He felt guilty about it, because it was their anniversary, but when CFI Stride had called him into his office to finally schedule his checkride, he couldn’t beg off.  He’d been trying to get this flight cleared for weeks ever since passing his written exam.  Thanks in large part to Shiro’s sponsorship, he’d already completed the other necessary requirements, from the medical certifications to the flight hours, to even the cross-country SIC.  He’d achieved his private pilot license months prior, but this checkride was the last hurdle he had to vault before he could finally be awarded his commercial pilot license.</p>
<p>He knew there was no guarantee he’d actually get jobs once he had that certificate.  For one thing, his commercial license would still be functionally restricted until after he got his instrument rating.  For another, there would always be prospective employers worried about him taking time off to have children, even more so than if he’d been a beta female.  He was subject to heats and married to an alpha to boot and that would be all that some of them saw when they did their mandatory background checks.  </p>
<p>He was the lone male omega in all of his ground school classes, and one of only three omegas at the entire flight school.  The other two were a teenager named Tammy who was going for a recreational pilot certificate, and a flight instructor named Ginger who was determined to earn her ATP certificate and become an airline pilot.  Keith had no interest in becoming an airline pilot himself, but the fact that Ginger had already been working successfully as a charter pilot gave him hope that he could do the same.</p>
<p>There had been a time when long haul flights to far flung places had appealed to him greatly, but that had been before he’d found a home he’d miss if he couldn’t return there every night.  Ferrying people on day trips sounded like an ideal working situation to him these days, though he’d happily take a job hauling intercity cargo if it meant he got to come home to Hunk’s smiling face on a regular basis.  In the meantime, he was still on the company payroll at the Beverly Wilshire, but he’d pared down to part-time hours with Hunk’s support.  As he eased the Corolla into the garage beside the Crosstrek, Keith mused that maybe after he was able to bring in more money then they could afford to put an addition on the house.  He loved the house, and he’d lived comfortably in much smaller places before, but its cozy size was starting to feel a bit tight now that they had the fur kid.</p>
<p>Keith opened the front door and was immediately tackled by sixty pounds of excited Alusky.</p>
<p>“Kosmo, down!”</p>
<p>Kosmo dropped to the foyer floor with all four huge paws in the air.  Keith laughed and knelt to rub his fluffy belly.</p>
<p>“That’s a good boy.”</p>
<p>Kosmo wriggled on his back, overjoyed at the attention.  At fourteen months old he still acted like a puppy sometimes.  He might technically still be a puppy.  The adoption counselor at the shelter had warned them that hybrids could keep on growing for up to thirty-six months, and Kosmo could still get a lot bigger.  Kosmo rolled over again, head butting Keith’s hand for pats, which Keith provided.</p>
<p>“Find Hunk?”</p>
<p>Kosmo boofed, ice blue eyes relaying that he understood the command, and launched himself to his feet to take off for the back of the house.  Keith followed at a more sedate pace, knowing that he could actually find Hunk himself just by focusing on the bond, but happy to give the dog something to do.  He strolled to the back door where Kosmo had already exited through the high tech doggie door that read his microchip by proximity.  Keith followed him out through the people door, then paused a moment to get the full effect of what Hunk had been doing out there.</p>
<p>He’d strung fairy lights above the entire back patio and set the outdoor table with triple-wick candles.  It was not full dark yet, but when the sun finally went down they shouldn’t have to turn on the patio light.  He’d found the firefly lantern from their wedding centerpiece and put it on the outdoor serving hutch next to a galvanized steel tub they’d received as a wedding present.  Rising from the ice cubes in that tub were cans of Red Pop and long necked bottles of chocolate stout.  Next to the serving hutch was the combo grill, in front of which stood the man who never failed to make Keith feel like he was home.</p>
<p>Hunk looked up from stirring something on the grill’s side burner to offer Keith a smile.  “Hey!  Good timing.”</p>
<p>Keith snagged two beers from the galvanized tub, popped the tops and handed one over.  “Sorry I’m late.”</p>
<p>“It’s alright, I got your text.”  Hunk took the offered beer and slung that arm around Keith’s shoulders.  “It gave me time to drop by Coran’s place and pick up the tree.”</p>
<p>Coran had recently gotten engaged to Nanette Dayak and was about to embark on a round-the-world trip with her.  They were eloping, and they were doing so in an over-the-top style that somehow suited the both of them.  Hunk had agreed to look after Coran’s beloved orange bonsai tree in his absence.  Not having the option of running over to the department store to chat with Coran on breaks anymore was going to be weird.  Keith leaned into Hunk’s warm side.</p>
<p>“Where’s the tree now?”</p>
<p>“Over there by the cosmos.”</p>
<p>Keith looked over his shoulder at the hedge of cosmos against the fence line that separated their back patio area from the next-door neighbor’s.  There sat the bonsai tree, an informal upright style in a brown glazed pot.  Sprinkled among the glossy green leaves on its twisting trunk were star-shaped white blooms.</p>
<p>“It’s in flower.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Hunk smiled.  “Coran thinks it’s a good omen.”</p>
<p>Keith hummed.  “Maybe he’s right.”  He took a moment to appreciate the solid warmth of his husband in the cooler autumn evening air, and the color contrast between the creamy froth of orange blossoms and the maroon-colored chocolate cosmos against the fence.  His view of the flowers was blocked by a double coat of black and white as Kosmo frisked over to investigate this new plant in his personal duchy.</p>
<p>“Maybe we should bring the bonsai inside tonight.”</p>
<p>Hunk looked over his shoulder at where Keith’s gaze was directed and immediately caught his drift.  “Yeah, I don’t know how cold hardy it is.  It can keep the umbrella plant company in our room.”  Though cold wasn’t really the true risk to the bonsai, and they both knew it.</p>
<p>Kosmo was a digger.  They’d found that out very soon after bringing him home at the age of three months, when he would sneak out the doggie door and try to dig his way into the next-door neighbor’s backyard, endlessly entranced by the the neighbor’s cosmic orange cosmos beckoning through the fence slats.  It got to the point where one of them would look out a window, spot dirt flying and yell “Cosmos!” hoping the other one was close enough to the back door to stop his digging before it reached the crater stage.  Eventually the puppy started responding to the hue and cry as if it were his own name.  Since he never responded to ‘Buck,’ which was the name the shelter had given him, they’d decided to rename him after the flowers he clearly loved, except they changed the first letter because Hunk thought it would be cute if he shared his first initial with one of his pet parents.</p>
<p>They’d also planted the hedge of chocolate cosmos, which was what finally brought Kosmo’s quest for the orange ones to a halt.  The cosmo flowers turned out to be very hardy, recovering readily from Kosmo repeatedly showing his affection for them by rolling in them.  He never dug or rolled in the houseplants, though, so bringing the bonsai indoors was the prudent course of action to protect it from his curiosity.</p>
<p>Keith helped Hunk serve up their meals and take them to the table.  Grilled asparagus, scalloped potatoes and Ribeye steaks done medium rare filled the al fresco plates which had also been wedding presents.  Hunk hadn’t missed a trick when he’d chosen what to bring outside for their anniversary dinner.  He even had a raw cut of round steak chopped up with asparagus for Kosmo to chow down on.  Keith tucked into his food with relish as he told him about his day.</p>
<p>“That’s awesome news, babe.”  Hunk clinked beer bottles with him in congratulations.  “You’re gonna be flying charters before you know it.”</p>
<p>“How about you, did your appointment with Hina go well?”</p>
<p>Hina’s side hustle as a small events DJ had started to blow up after the wedding, to the point where she was thinking of making it her main hustle and looking into acquiring commercial property closer to the city’s bigger entertainment districts.  She’d roped Hunk into looking at properties with her that were near his neck of the woods, both because he knew those parts of the city well and because he knew a lot of the officials she’d potentially be dealing with if she hung out her shingle there.  The place they’d looked at that day was a mixed-use property in the Mid-City area.</p>
<p>“It went okay.  The building has a full breakroom and a shower, so Hina could stay overnight there if she had a late night and the kids were at sleepovers.  It’s on a street that’s part of a redevelopment project, so she’d get some tax breaks and defrayed soft costs to renovate the place.  Her property value might go up if the rest of the block renovates along with her.”</p>
<p>Hunk had that distant smile on his face that meant plans were whirring at a hundred miles a minute in that beautiful brain of his.</p>
<p>“I thought Hina wanted a turnkey.”</p>
<p>Hunk shrugged.  “She’s flexible, but yeah, I probably liked the place more than she did.”</p>
<p>“Still thinking about going owner-operator?”</p>
<p>They’d talked about it, off and on.  Hunk was very well-compensated for his job and still found it rewarding, so there was no urgency to those conversations, but he did come from a family of small business owners and he definitely had the smarts to go out on his own if he decided he wanted to.  With his expertise and connections he could expect a good return for his efforts in any number of business opportunities in the hospitality industry.</p>
<p>“I was thinking more that three omegas could comfortably live in that place, maybe even four.”  Hunk looked thoughtful.  “They could run whatever kind of business they wanted to out of there, just about.  It was a chiropractor’s office before, but it could also be a clothing boutique, or a daycare center.  Or maybe some kind of cottage industry, they don’t have to run it with a storefront just because it has a good corner location.”</p>
<p>Keith smiled as he felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the candle flickering light and heat in the center of the table.  When Hunk was concerned about something, he’d worry at the problem until a potential solution shook out, and then he’d methodically test that solution until he was sure it was the right way to go.  He was still worrying at the problem of omega housing, and had been for a while.  They’d talked about this off and on, as well.  Originally Hunk had thought about opening his own omega housing facility, but after doing some research he’d decided the hostel model was too inherently flawed for him not to risk falling into the same traps others before him had fallen prey to, and then he’d become convinced that there was no one-size-fits-all panacea and alternative housing models should be tested for viability.</p>
<p>“You’re going to have to screen your tenants for aptitude if you go with a live-work model,” Keith pointed out.  He’d probably have to screen them for other stuff too.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I think my plan needs some more fine-tuning,” Hunk admitted, but Keith could tell he’d finally hit on an idea that he’d continue calibrating until he had something he felt comfortable acting on.</p>
<p>They savored the rest of their dinner, enduring Kosmo’s begging eyes because he’d horked down his food long before the humans were done eating and he was still young enough to be shameless.  Then Hunk brought out dessert.</p>
<p>“If I didn’t know for a fact we ate all of it, I’d swear that was the top tier from our wedding cake.”  Keith was amazed.</p>
<p>“Yeah, our moms said they looked at wedding pictures for hours trying to get it just right.”</p>
<p>The second act of the Sweet &amp; Savory sisters was still in business, and business was better than ever.  Word of that wedding cake had gotten around, and in response to resultant demand they’d branched out from the farmer’s market circuit.  These days they were making as much revenue taking custom cake orders as they were from the booth.  The only reason they weren’t making more was because expansion would require them to follow Hina’s lead and find a bigger commercial space to work out of, as well as consider hiring employees to help with the influx of work they’d have to take on to pay for that.  For the time being, both Alana and Krolia were comfortable with the level of growth they’d achieved and not in any hurry to move off that plateau.</p>
<p>Keith and Hunk enjoyed the cake their mothers had made for them, put the leftovers in the fridge to enjoy some more later, and then enjoyed each other’s company as they chatted through the after-dinner cleanup.  They took the bonsai indoors.  Then they took fresh beers into the living room to trade gifts on the couch.</p>
<p>“Aw, thank you baby, I’ve been wanting one of these.”  Hunk grinned as he peeled back the wrapping paper on the commercial grade kitchen timer Keith had gotten for him.</p>
<p>“I know.”  Keith smiled.  “I’ve seen you swooning over the one at work when I’m picking up room service orders.”</p>
<p>Keith’s observational skills were rewarded with a nice long smooch before Hunk handed him a small box with a bow on top.  Keith pulled the top off and gave a soft exclamation at the sight of a black chronograph watch in the box.  A really nice one.  A Seiko.</p>
<p>“They told me most people don’t need the slide rule, but for pilots it can come in handy.”  Hunk had a tendency to ramble when he was nervous.  “Do you like it?”</p>
<p>Keith answered his question by jumping into his lap and laying one on him.  Their celebration continued from the couch, to the kitchen counter, to the foyer table where they scattered potpourri all over the floor, and finally to the bedroom.  Kosmo trotted at their heels carrying his hippo squeaky toy in his mouth, probably under the assumption that they were playing.  To be fair, they were playing, but it was a bedroom game.  Adults only.</p>
<p>“Let me set him up with some DOGTV,” Hunk said, setting Keith down and stepping out into the hall.  Kosmo’s ears perked up recognizing the name of the streaming channel.  He followed Hunk back to the living room, toy squeaking and tail wagging.  Moments later loud bird noises emanated from the direction of the living room, interspersed with the gentler tones of Hunk laughing and talking to the dog.</p>
<p>While Hunk was doing that, Keith would just get a little more comfortable.  He shut himself in the bathroom and shucked off his outer layers of clothing.  He gave his pits the sniff test and smelled only akebia, no sweat funk whatsoever.  His pheromones sure were extra fragrant today though, was it just because he was in the mood?  Whatever, Hunk loved his scent, there was no way that a little extra was going to be a mood killer.</p>
<p>He splashed some warm water on his face and opened the medicine cabinet to get out the mouth wash.  When he took the bottle off the shelf, it dislodged his pill pack of suppressants, which fell sideways with a clack.  As he stared at the purple plastic compact, he suddenly realized he didn’t have a clear memory of taking one that morning.  It had been an unusually hectic day.  Had he run out of the house without taking the pill, or had he taken one while barely awake like usual, and then promptly forgotten about it?</p>
<p>He heard Hunk close the bedroom door and turn on the radio, manipulating the dial and finally stopping on a Mariah Carey hit from the naughty aughties.  Keith shut the medicine cabinet, taking a second to rinse his mouth with minty freshness and ruffle his hair before opening the bathroom door and leaning out with his hands on the head jamb.  Hunk stopped in the process of rucking his old USC sweatshirt over his head, and Keith paused a moment to appreciate Hunk’s impressive biceps at full flex.  Then he appreciated the sight of those big brown eyes glazing over as Hunk took in what Keith was wearing.</p>
<p>“They’re compression stockings,” Keith said, letting his weight rock forward so that he was supporting himself more with his hands hooked over the head jamb than his feet on the floor.  “They’re good for circulation and reducing the risk of DVT while flying.”</p>
<p>This was true, but it wasn’t the reason Keith had chosen this particular pair that went all the way up to the crease where his thighs met his rear.  It also wasn’t why he’d chosen to pair them with bikini briefs and a tiny undershirt on this particular day.  As he let go of the head jamb and approached a stalk still Hunk, he picked up on a strengthening and sweetening of his pheromones, a decadent scent like butter mochi.  That was the reason.  He unraveled the sweater from Hunk’s strong forearms.</p>
<p>“You wanna help me take ‘em off?” Keith asked.</p>
<p>“Are they just as good for circulation on the ground as they are in the air?”  </p>
<p>Hunk’s tone had rumbly undertones that caused an immediate improvement in circulation to a certain part of Keith’s anatomy.</p>
<p>“How about we run an experiment and find out.”</p>
<p>“We should give it a thorough test,” Hunk agreed as he pulled the undershirt off Keith’s torso.  “You know, for safety.”  His fingertips played Keith’s ribcage like a frottoir.</p>
<p>“Safety first.”</p>
<p>Keith always felt safe with Hunk, even when their lovemaking wound up wrecking furniture from one end of the house to the other.  They’d explored each other thoroughly and enthusiastically over their first year of marriage.  Hunk knew where Keith’s limits were.  He knew when to give him a workout that would make a marathon runner pass out, and when to worship his body like an idol.</p>
<p>Tonight was more on the side of the latter.  Hunk lay back on the shag rug with Keith balanced over his face.  Gradually the briefs were peeled down Keith’s thighs, Hunk taking more and more of Keith’s weight in his hands and Keith letting him as Hunk took him apart with lips, tongue, and the occasional delicate nip of teeth.  Keith rocked in place, cresting each successive wave of pleasure as the need twisted inside him, spiraling impossibly higher with each release.  Slick soaked the compression stockings to the point where Keith might never be able to wear this pair outside of the bedroom again.</p>
<p>After the third crescendo which failed to result in a complete release, enough was enough.  Keith leaped up and stepped out of the bikini briefs.  Hunk rolled to his feet and Keith took advantage of his standing position to finish relieving him of his pants.  Hunk snatched his sweater off the end of the bed and used it to wipe his face before using a clean sleeve to swab at Keith’s forehead, which was damp with sweat.</p>
<p>“Babe?” Hunk said.  “You’re super duper hot.”</p>
<p>“I know.”  Hot and bothered, Keith jumped up onto the bed’s thick cotton mattress.  Hunk told him he was beautiful all the time and let him know he was sexy in myriad of ways, but ribald professions weren’t really his style unless he was trying to make Keith laugh.  Keith loved that sweetness at the core of him.  He hadn’t enjoyed brotastic compliments even when it had been his job to pretend he did.</p>
<p>“No, I mean physically in addition to metaphorically.”</p>
<p>Keith leaned up on his elbows and stared Hunk down between his splayed knees.  “I’ll feel a lot better after you scratch my itch.”  </p>
<p>Hunk’s big, warm hands encircled Keith’s clothed ankles, caressing up his calves, to the dips behind his knees, and then down his thighs to the juncture where the slick ran down.  Hunk maintained eye contact as his large fingers circled and then found their way to that blissful spot deep within.  Keith let out a loud, low trill of approval.  One of the awesome things about being married to another guy was that he did not question the fact that sex could soothe all ills.  The sky was blue, the sun was a star, and sex was better than aspirin.</p>
<p>There was actually something nigglingly familiar about the way that Keith’s body was feeling, but before he could follow that thought trail anywhere, something much bigger was replacing Hunk’s fingers, and then Keith wasn’t thinking about anything at all except how his body was feeling fucking fantastic.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith awoke to the ticklish sensation of a soft speculum being placed in his ear.  He cracked one eye open at Hunk, who was fully showered and dressed, and seated on the bed next to him holding the ear thermometer.</p>
<p>“Ninety-nine degrees,” Hunk murmured while looking at the thermometer’s digital readout.</p>
<p>“Call the paramedics.”  Keith shifted in bed to look up at his oh-so-serious husband.  “Tell Lance he can have my old CD collection, but he can’t have my leather jacket.  That’s going to my mom.  This is my last will and testament.”</p>
<p>“Very funny.”  Hunk grabbed his cell phone off the night stand.  “I’m calling you in sick.”</p>
<p>Keith grumbled but didn’t try to stop him.  His lower parts were feeling kind of achy and everything smelled unusually sharp and strong.  Hunk closed out his call and left the room as Kosmo bounded over from the bolstered dog bed to jump up into the people bed.  Keith carded his fingers through thick fur while listening to Hunk putter in the kitchen.  When he came back into the bedroom, he was carrying the folding bed tray loaded with whole grain toast, hot tea, and eggs made Keith’s favorite way.</p>
<p>“Sunny side up?”  Keith shoved himself into a semi-upright position.</p>
<p>“Of course.”  Hunk smiled and kissed him as he set the tray down over his lap.  “If you feel worse– ”</p>
<p>“I’ll call you,” Keith said, reaching up for another smooch.  “I promise.”</p>
<p>Hunk called Kosmo to the kitchen for his breakfast as Keith dug into his eggs and toast, then returned for one last morning kiss before leaving for work.  Keith finished his breakfast and took a long, hot shower, and by the time he was dressed he was feeling a lot better.  Since he unexpectedly had the day off and Hunk wouldn’t be home for hours, he decided to see if he could get Kosmo a play date and fired off a text to somebody else he knew who had the day off.</p>
<p>Pidge texted an affirmative and sent along a gif of her brother: massively pregnant, dressed as Sam Winchester for Halloween and throwing a pack of Skittles at whomever was holding a camera on him.  It would be natural to assume it was Pidge, but Ryan was also known to be a shutterbug.  Keith knew a reaction was expected, so he gave her one.</p>
<p>
  <em>shoudln he be taken it easy?</em>
</p>
<p>Pidge didn’t disappoint.</p>
<p>
  <em>Holts dont sit out halloween its a family rule. he would still dress up giving out candy while counting contractions if he had to.</em>
</p>
<p>Keith shrugged to himself as he opened the medicine cabinet and took down his suppressants.  Popping open the compact, he frowned to see that he had indeed missed a pill the previous day.  Oh well.  He’d just double up, it was what the instructions said to do so it should be fine, right?</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Kosmo and Bae Bae greeted each other nose to butt and then gamboled off the leash in a joyous race around the fenced perimeter of the park.  Meanwhile, Keith and Pidge stood under a tree together telling stories on their friends.</p>
<p>“Let me guess.”  Keith took a glug from his water bottle.  “He wanted to be a Paladin again.”</p>
<p>“He’s running out of names that rhyme with Shiro.”  Pidge dropped a packet of Zipfizz into her own water bottle and shook it up.  “Matt wants to gain a necromancy cantrip so he can turn Shiro’s next incarnation into a ghoul before he can die again.  Then he’ll have to follow Matt around carrying his gear like an undead caddy and he won’t be able to run straight at dragons unless Matt gives him permission first.”</p>
<p>Shiro’s characters in Monsters &amp; Mana had a track record for dying faster than the rest of the team.  This was mostly due to his predilection for bodily throwing his avatar between their party and advancing threats, but Keith suspected it sometimes also had to do with the fact that Shiro and Lance frequently played in the same room together, and Lance could never resist an opportunity to prove how distracting he could be.  Regardless of the circumstances, Shiro always made himself a new avatar and rejoined the team with the same skin, character traits and basic abilities.  He was convinced he could unlock the Paladin’s fullest potential if he just stayed patient and focused.  Yet, rather than attempt to avoid certain death situations, or, failing that, beg a death ward from their handy War Priest (Matt) or one of the many Hail Mary talismans Lance’s rogue character was constantly stealing and had on his person at any given time, Shiro just kept buying the farm and coming back as a new Paladin who was always conveniently the brother of the last Paladin on the same quest to avenge the same master.</p>
<p>Shiro’s actual brother thought this was hilarious and had been threatening to clone Shiro’s avatar so that they could skip the suspense of wondering which sound-alike of his name Shiro was going to spring on them this time.  Since Kuro’s Wizard character was nowhere near a level capable of casting that spell, Matt’s chances of making good on his threat first were probably much higher.  Except that Matt’s character might have to go on a low-action side quest pretty soon, so he might not be leveling up on spells any faster than Kuro until after his whole baby state of affairs leveled out.</p>
<p>“Seriously though, how’s Matt doing?”  Keith turned his gaze away from their dogs joining a sniff circle to his friend standing next to him.  “He’s overdue now, isn’t he?”</p>
<p>“He’s a week past his due date and threatening to break his own water.”  Pidge frowned at the pinkish water in her bottle.  “I don’t think he really means it.  He’s just frustrated.  He’s on maternity leave now, and Ryan won’t let him unpack any more boxes.”</p>
<p>Matt’s unexpected social media stardom had opened the door to him signing on with a social startup.  It had also launched Ryan’s career in a different direction, and now he was attached to Public Affairs, where his movie star good looks and self-possessed manners were proving very popular with that office’s followers across its social platforms.  Keith had felt kind of bad for him being taken out of the career trajectory where he’d been flying pretty much every day, but Ryan had seemed unconcerned about that, pointing out that he’d still be allowed to maintain his type ratings, and more importantly to him, he’d be able to truly put down roots and start a family.</p>
<p>Now that he was essentially a public personality and unlikely to ever be reassigned, Ryan was given leave to finally take Matt’s mark.  The couple had also bought a house in El Segundo, a bit of a fixer upper which they were still in the process of moving into.  They’d gotten the nursery and the kitchen finished, but other parts of the house were still a work in progress.</p>
<p>Pidge’s cell phone blasted an alert bop.  She pulled it from her belt holster and thumbed open the messaging app.  “Cheese and rice.”  She’d been trying to clean up her language since learning she was going to be an aunt.</p>
<p>“What is it?”</p>
<p>Pidge held up her phone to show Keith the most recent additions to a long family convo thread.</p>
<p>Whoa.  “Pidge, you better go, somebody needs to make sure Ryan doesn’t start something in the delivery room and your parents won’t be here for hours.”  Ryan was a chill dude, except where Matt was concerned, and then he was capable of going full alpha with little warning.</p>
<p>Pidge looked out at the park again.  Bae Bae, sensing her human’s mood, was trotting across the field in their direction with Kosmo right behind her.  “It might just be Braxton Hicks again.”  That’s what had seen Ryan rushing Matt to the hospital two weeks prior, only for them to be sent home again an hour later.</p>
<p>“I kinda doubt it.”  </p>
<p>As she turned back to meet his eyes, Keith could see that Pidge was well aware that the odds were against this being a false alarm.  She looked on the verge of freaking out.  Matt’s pregnancy had been bucolically uneventful until the false labor, and he was presently on his way to a hospital with a good reputation, but childbirth for male omegas still had higher averages of catastrophic complications compared to other dynamics.  Convincing herself it wasn’t real was a momentary cushion against anxiety for Pidge, but gently talking people around was just not Keith’s way.</p>
<p>“You need to be there,” he said.  “I’ll dogsit Bae Bae for you, go on.”</p>
<p>Pidge burst into grateful tears and then made Keith swear not to tell anybody that she cried.  She gave him Bae Bae’s leash and a quick hug from strong little arms before rushing off to meet her new nephew.  Keith smiled as he watched her run out of the park under a baby blue sky.  A new life was about to begin.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Month One: Baby, What a Big Surprise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Weddings are attended and discoveries are made (not necessarily in that order).  Games are played, both the literal and the figurative types.  In the end though, it's all about the fam.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much to everybody who's still reading this series.  :) </p>
<p>Shout outs to Feytality, PyroInfinite, old_pens, and Drowning_Slowly for your comments.  My updating is probably going to slow down in August, but I'm still hoping to get out a few chapters relatively fast for July, and feel assured that there are definitely going to be more Monsters and Mana jokes, it's kind of going to be a running theme for the rest of the fic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Lance exited the subway station and stepped out onto the sidewalk, moving briskly in the direction of his appointment.  He’d learned that there was no worse offense to fellow pedestrians in Manhattan than standing in the way of foot traffic.  He bustled with the flow of people until he reached the building housing his doctor’s practice, along with a lot of other medical suites associated with Weill Cornell.  As he took the stairs to the second floor, he cast his mind back upon the productive day he’d had, and give himself a little mental cheer.  He’d been shadowing Twyla for a couple of weeks, but today he’d finally gotten to do his first color correction by himself, and the gratitude on the customer’s face was something he was sure he’d remember for a while.</p>
<p>Maybe he ought to put it on the calendar, that way he’d remember it for sure.  He couldn’t wait to tell Shiro.  As he strode through Doctor Gorma’s waiting room to check in, his phone rang a familiar tune.  Oh, lookie there.  No need to wait.</p>
<p>“Guess what?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’re safely inside the building?”</em>
</p>
<p>“If you’re looking at the GPS then you know I am.”  Lance had disabled his spoofing app, wanting Shiro to know exactly where he was.  It was the only way to prove that he was perfectly fine.  Someday he hoped this overprotective business would be settled for good and all.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Honey I can’t always tell when you’re inside a building or on the street.  I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”</em>
</p>
<p>“I am stupendous.”  Lance told Shiro about his day as he scrawled his name on the sign in sheet at the receptionist’s desk, and then took a plush seat in the waiting room.</p>
<p><em>“I’m so proud of you.”</em>  The smile in Shiro’s voice smoothed the ruffled feathers caused by his fussing.  <em>“When you get home we’ll celebrate.”</em></p>
<p>“That’s a great idea.”  Lance could think of a lot of fun ways to celebrate.</p>
<p>They traded ‘love you’s,’ and no sooner had Shiro rung off, then Rachel rung on.  Seeing that the receptionist was not objecting to Lance yakking on his cell phone in the waiting room, he answered.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Guess what?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Ay, don’t leave me in suspense, tell me now.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Check your message app.”</em>
</p>
<p>The message alert was pinging before she was even done talking.  Lance opened it and squealed loud enough to provoke the receptionist to glance up from her computer.  Rachel had sent him a picture of her hand adorned with a diamond ring.  It was obviously vintage and perfect for her, as she’d find the implied history of the ring to be an integral part of its charm.  Lately she’d had to concern herself with luck a lot, but it wasn’t her natural inclination to be worried about things like a transferal of fate.  </p>
<p>When Rachel had first started dating Daniel, Lance had been a little bit worried that they might be mismatched because she was demi and he seemed really extra.  Would he be understanding?  As it turned out, Daniel had an unusually high courtship display drive, higher than most betas or even many alphas.  Thinking up grand gestures and carrying them out gave him personal satisfaction which was not attached to any particular outcome in his mind, which according to office gossip had annoyed his previous girlfriends, but Rachel adored it.  Those two were a better matched couple than anybody could have predicted.</p>
<p>“¡Felicidades!  Hermana, I am so excited for you!”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Will you bring Shiro over to dinner en el apartamento on December 13th?  Daniel and I are going to host a dinner party to announce the engagement.  We’re going to call a bunch of people on video chat and everything.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Of course I will!”  Lance would make sure he had that evening off, and he was also confident that Shiro would not choose work over something this important.  “But Rachel, you know that’s going to be a Friday the 13th, don’t you?”  Rachel might not worry about superstitions, but other people did.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know, but the 13th is a lucky day for both me and Daniel according to the fortune teller.”</em>
</p>
<p>Rachel and Daniel had been visiting the fortune teller ever since Daniel had taken her home to meet the beloved grandmother who had raised him after his parents died, and whose rent-controlled apartment he technically still lived in, though as much time as he spent at Rachel’s, if they’d been any other couple he’d be moved into her place already.  According to her, Xarnaren Li was a woman who brooked no misdeeds against her family, a character trait Rachel respected greatly.  Daniel’s grandmother was also a firm believer in resolving doubts through the use of divination.  Since she had expressed doubts about her grandson making a stable match with a woman who did not share their cultural heritage, the young couple had decided to try convincing her using a system she did find reliable.  They had begun seeking advice from the family’s longtime fortune teller, Master Sypat.</p>
<p>Far be it from Lance to question anyone wanting to seek out metaphysical advice.  He still remembered back when he was a little child, when Mima used to leave the house sometimes to go and ask the italero to throw the cowrie shells for her.  As she was leaving she would always ask Mamá if she wanted any questions asked on her behalf, and Mamá would pretend to be indifferent about it but would always make sure she was within overhearing distance when Mima came back to tell Pipo about her reading.  Rachel no doubt remembered those times even better than Lance did.  After hanging up with her, Lance forwarded the picture and a short message about the dinner party to Shiro, who messaged back an affirmative so fast it was as good as admitting that he had already known.</p>
<p>While Lance was blinking down at his phone wondering if he ought to call Shiro on that baloney, another message came through.  This was a photo from Pidge, with a caption: <em>I cant take this cuteness alone, everyone must suffer w/me</em>.  She’d picspammed their whole gaming group with photos of her tiny nephew, Banon Amicus Kinkade.  In most of them Banon was swaddled so thoroughly that the only parts of him visible were his little round face and a few wisps of hair.  The group conversation erupted with messages proclaiming the baby’s cuteness, especially from Kuro using the handle ‘Kurojishi’ and somehow making a supercute image of a swaddled baby out of emojis in no time flat.</p>
<p>Thumbs like the wind, that one had, but never before had he faced off with a cringe master like Lancey Lance, able to wield secondhand embarrassment like a... like a Cringe Master(TM).  Lance sent the message: <em>greetings from teh gyno offic! ur bebe is so cute</em>.  His geolocation was still on, so he was able to prove the truthfulness of that statement with a check-in signature.  The group flooded with reactions that made him smile.</p>
<p><strong>Valayun</strong>: <em>thank you for that delightful overshare</em></p>
<p><strong>Kurojishi</strong>: <em>the child is not drinking anything in any of the pictures?</em></p>
<p><strong>Meklavar</strong>: <em>how many times do I hav to remind u he is not my baby</em></p>
<p><strong>ThunderstormDarkness</strong>: <em>i was eating lunch!</em></p>
<p><strong>Shiro</strong>: <em>the whole world didnt need to know about that Lance</em></p>
<p>Even from his own damn husband.  Et tu, Shiro?  Lance found a picture on the internet of one of those exam tables with the stirrups, and sent it to the group.  He was still basking in the effusion of outrage emojis that one stirred up when the nurse called his name.  He sent the message: <em>off 2 get poked n prodded CU l8r</em>.  Then he turned off his cell phone and followed the nurse to an exam room where she made him get on a scale and took his vitals.</p>
<p>He wasn’t actually expecting to get a pelvic exam this time, just probably pee in a cup and answer some questions.  Sure enough, Nurse Anga wanted to know when his last full heat was (way back in December before starting the suppressant, same as the last time he answered this question) if he’d been using any alternate forms of birth control besides the shot (nope) and whether he’d been experiencing any side effects.  He told her about the recent incident where he got hot enough that Shiro thought he might be sick, leaving out the more provocative details.  Shocking his friends was fun, but shocking a nurse who was about to give him a shot was probably a bad idea.  She added the information to his file and made him go pee in a cup.  </p>
<p>He sealed the plastic cup and put it in the bathroom cubby, and then sat down in the chair in the exam room.  Usually all they made him do was to loosen his pants so they could stick the injection in his hip.  It seemed like he’d been waiting for longer than usual, long enough to make him consider turning his phone back on to pass the time, when Nurse Anga rushed back in rolling a tray with a venipuncture kit on it.</p>
<p>“Roll up your sleeve, my dear,” she said, “I’m going to need to take a blood sample.”</p>
<p>She was trying valiantly to hide it, but Lance could smell the stress on her.  “Did everything come out alright?”  He pushed up his Oriande t-shirt sleeve so that the nurse could apply the elastic band above his elbow.</p>
<p>“You’re fine, we just need a sample of your blood.”  She swabbed his inner elbow with rubbing alcohol and patted the vein.  “Squeeze this.”  She placed a stress ball in his palm, which he squeezed because now he was getting a little stressed.  “Just a pinch,” she said, then slid the needle under his skin.</p>
<p>She drew blood into a vial, then placed a cotton ball over the needle.  “Press here please.”  Lance pressed his fingers on the cotton ball and she withdrew the needle, then took out a band-aid with the Rilakkuma bear on it.  Lance smiled in confusion as she taped down the band-aid over the cotton ball.  She knew he thought those band-aids were adorable, but she didn’t often indulge him with one because that supply was mostly reserved for the pregnant patients.</p>
<p>“Thanks?”</p>
<p>She smiled back at him.  “It’s alright.  I would recommend you add something high in iron to your dinner tonight.  Now put this on.”  She handed him a paper smock.  “Doctor Gorma will be in to see you shortly.”</p>
<p>She left him to get undressed, and though she hadn’t told him to get onto the examination table Lance figured he was going to wind up there anyway, so as soon as he had the smock on he hopped aboard.  It seemed he was going to be putting his feet in stirrups after all.  Doctor Gorma covered the ones in his exam rooms with silicone cushions.  The first time Lance had been in here, the doctor had made a total dad joke about not wanting his patients to get cold feet and won him over from that moment on.  Lance perched on the business end of the exam table, dangling his legs over the side like a kid on a swing.</p>
<p>Doctor Gorma entered the room carrying a stainless steel tray of sterile implements, offering a soothing smile from behind horn-rimmed glasses and a chin curtain beard.  Corny jokes aside, he was always professional with Lance, even though he was privy to his extensive sexual history.  “Hello, Lance, how are you doing today?”</p>
<p>“I’m kind of confused,” Lance admitted.  Granted, he had missed his usual appointment, but was it really time already to do the whole work-up again?  He’d thought he had a couple more months to mentally prepare himself for the speculum.  Doctor Gorma used a Veda-scope which was supposed to be the best, but it also meant looking at his insides in high definition, which was always a little trip into the uncanny valley.  It was weird watching stuff moving around that he knew was part of his own body but that seemed to be moving independently of his conscious will.</p>
<p>“I’m here to clarify that for you.”  Doctor Gorma tugged on his plastic gloves.  “Lay back and put your feet in the stirrups please.”</p>
<p>Lance did as asked, paper crinkling as he adjusted his position on the table.  The stirrups were soft and kind of squishy against his heels, warming up quickly to match his body temperature.  His toes hung over the tops.  Curse his giant feet.</p>
<p>Gorma began the exam by palpating Lance’s abdomen.  “Are you feeling any pain where I press down?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Good, good.”  Gorma turned to the rolling cart which held the flat screen monitor.  “I promise this will not take long.  I don’t believe that you will need a biopsy today.”</p>
<p>“Okay.”  Lance relaxed a bit.  The biopsy was the most physically uncomfortable part of a pelvic exam.  He was happy to skip it.</p>
<p>The speculum Gorma used in his office utilized filtered air instead of a bi-valve to dilate Lance’s walls, and a soft sponge to hold the barrel open for the camera.  Soon they were looking at Lance’s cervix on the monitor.</p>
<p>“Is it supposed to look so gooey?”  Usually it just looked like a pink donut.  Now it kind of looked like cottage cheese on a donut.</p>
<p>Gorma glanced up and smiled.  “This is normal for your current hormone levels, and I will explain why, but before that I will let you get dressed.”  He looked back at the monitor again.  “Yes, everything looks good, you are in excellent health.  It is to your benefit that we discovered this early.”</p>
<p>Gorma finished the exam and left Lance to put his clothes back on in privacy.  He appreciated the doctor’s bedside manner, honestly truly, but he was ready for this mystery to be over.  He paced the room until Gorma returned with Anga in tow carrying his after-visit summary paperwork, which looked oddly thick for just refilling a prescription.</p>
<p>“Lance,” Gorma said, “I think you might want to sit down for this.”</p>
<p>“Go ahead and lay it on me, Doctor.”  Lance stopped pacing.  He noticed Anga strategically placing herself in the catcher’s zone, but he didn’t intend on falling over.  “I can take it.  Is it cancer?”</p>
<p>His luck had just been too good for too long.  Something had to give.</p>
<p>“Cancer?”  Gorma put his hands up reassuringly.  “No Lance, you don’t have cancer.  You’re simply pregnant.”</p>
<p>“Oop, there he goes.”</p>
<p>Lance didn’t fall very far, as Anga was right there, and she was a sturdily-built woman.  They helped him into a chair and Anga set about taking Lance’s blood pressure again while Gorma pulled up another chair to explain what the ever loving heck he meant by that whole “pregnant” announcement.  Gorma’s lemony scent and Anga’s spiced tea scent blended together in a mellow beta perfume which was soothing to Lance’s overwhelmed senses.</p>
<p>“I believe that you began going into heat on your anniversary.  It’s rare for that to happen before the fifteenth week after a suppressant shot, but it seems you may be among the small percentile of patients who require more frequent doses to maintain full effectiveness.  This is good information to keep in mind for the future.”</p>
<p>“But, I didn’t stay in heat?”  Lance’s head was spinning.</p>
<p>“You were with your mate, sharing a romantic evening.”  Gorma was still sounding far too reasonable about this whole thing.  “It is rather unusual for a male omega to experience LH surge prior to coitus, but there is some precedent for this happening occasionally among mated pairs.  Again, this is good information to have for the future, knowing that you are exceptionally fertile can help you stay prepared in your family planning.  As I’m sure you’re aware, in most male omegas once an egg had been fertilized, the heat begins to alleviate almost immediately.  This is a good thing, helping to protect the male omega’s body from the stress of a multiple pregnancy.”</p>
<p>“I know the symptoms of heat.”  Lance’s skin felt clammy in the air conditioned exam room.  “I noticed a little uptick in my pheromones and temperature, okay, but it just felt like preheat.  I didn’t really start feeling like it could be a heat heat, at least not until after...”</p>
<p>Anga placed a pulse oximeter on Lance’s finger.  “Until after you were with your alpha?”</p>
<p>“Until after I drank Haruka’s tea.”</p>
<p>Gorma took his notepad out of the pocket of his white lab coat.  “Describe this tea for me if you please.”</p>
<p>Lance did his best.  He was sure Haruka must have said the name of the plant she used on some occasion or another, but he must not have been paying attention that day.  At least he was able to describe it by scent and appearance.  Gorma scribbled on his pad.  He would probably be calling Haruka himself to get the name, since she was his patient too.</p>
<p>“If Mrs. Shinobu was taking this tisane for detoxification purposes or to increase her milk production, it is possible that it led to increased fertility for you in either case.”  Gorma adjusted his glasses.  “This might not have affected you so strongly if you had not been so close to the end of your suppressant dose.  Perhaps it was not one single factor which led to your pregnancy, but a perfect storm of circumstance.  One might almost call it fate.”</p>
<p>Gorma comfortingly patted Lance on the shoulder.</p>
<p>“However, I would still strongly advise you not to drink a tisane with which you are unfamiliar, especially after the person who made it specifically advised you to pour it out.”</p>
<p>Lance’s face burned like the flame of a thousand fiery suns.</p>
<p>“You have your baby to think of now,” Anga added her two cents as she removed the oximeter from Lance’s finger.  “You can’t just eat or drink whatever catches your fancy anymore.”</p>
<p>“Well, eggo my preggo.”  Lance was really and truly pregnant.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro used the garden floor entrance, his usual point of entry into the townhouse when he didn’t have guests accompanying him.  He’d half-expected to find Lance waiting for him under the staircase transom, ready to grill him on how much he’d known about his sister’s engagement, and when he had known about it.  Then Shiro would distract him with slow kisses, a night out swing dancing in Midtown, a late supper, and maybe a few glasses of white wine before a long night of passionate celebration.</p>
<p>Instead, Haruka stood in the open door of the garden floor apartment with Midori in her arms.  Well, that was not an unwelcome sight either, though for entirely different reasons.  Shiro greeted them with a smile and a nod, both of which were returned from the mother.  The child just grinned up at him out of a toothless mouth in a sweet moon face topped by a thatch of fluffy black hair.  It was a bit early to tell yet, but she might be taking after her father.</p>
<p>“Lance is waiting for you in the rear parlor,” Haruka said.</p>
<p>Was he?  How much trouble was Shiro in for keeping quiet about the engagement ring?  After thanking Haruka for delivering the message, Shiro jogged up the stairs and ambled down the hall into the rear parlor.  He found Lance in the process of removing boxes of takeout from a bag and setting them out on the coffee table.  Atlas wove between his legs in hopes of a tidbit.</p>
<p>Shiro recognized the logo on the bag.  It was a restaurant they often ordered from on nights when Rachel came over.  However, on this night Lance was alone in the parlor, aside from the hopeful cat.  Lance looked up at his entrance into the room and offered a smile that reminded him of that time when he’d tried to comfort Shiro for accidentally turning their no-pressure engagement into a two day whirlwind wedding.  Shiro’s inner alpha was instantly on high alert.</p>
<p>“Honey, you didn’t have to do all this.”  Shiro moved closer to put his arms around his spouse and maybe suss out any warning signals that might be present in his scent.  “I would have taken you out on the town.”</p>
<p>“The nurse told me to eat something high in iron for dinner,” Lance said, returning the embrace.</p>
<p>He still smelled extra sweet, as he had since their anniversary.  Shiro had occasion to smell his true heat scent once, early in their marriage, during a week of temptation that would live luridly in his memory forever.  It had been similar to this, but there was something different.  It was less syrupy now.  He smelled kind of like whiskey smoked sugar.</p>
<p>“I hitched a ride home with Rachel and we hit up that place with the family specials.”  Lance let Shiro go and reached into the bag on the coffee table.  “They had the pepper steak tonight.  I got you a Coco Rico.”  He popped the top on the can and handed it over.</p>
<p>Shiro accepted the offered drink and took a sip of crisp soda that somehow tasted more savory than sweet after getting a whiff of Lance.  “I hope she didn’t feel like she had to leave.  She’s welcome over here anytime.”  Though Shiro had romantic designs on the evening, he would have put it on the back burner for family time, especially after an announcement like the one today.</p>
<p>“It’s okay.”  There was that soft smile again.  “Daniel’s taking her out to some fancy fusion place in the Bowery tonight.  She just wanted a horchata.”</p>
<p>The spread on the coffee table included pepper steak, black beans and rice, and green salad with juicy tomatoes.  Shiro got out the freeze-dried bonito flakes to distract Atlas away from the beef.  Lance had also gotten himself a can of Malta.  It never failed to mystify Shiro how people could want to drink something that looked and smelled so much like beer but had no alcohol in it.</p>
<p>“Do you want me to open a bottle of wine?”  Shiro was already standing and moving toward the wet bar in the corner.</p>
<p>“You go ahead, querido,” Lance said, which was very much not like him.  Though technically not old enough to order his own drinks, and definitely not one to drink alone, if there was wine to be shared he was usually all in.</p>
<p>Not much point in uncorking a bottle of good wine when he’d be the only one drinking from it.  Shiro decided to pour himself a dram of spirits to mix with his soda instead, and oh look there was the marital emergency rum bottle sitting right there on the wet bar’s counter, how convenient.  One of the little wacky tumblers which had accompanied it when it had been gifted to them sat right next to it.  Shiro turned to look at Lance, who gazed back at him placidly.</p>
<p>“You’re going to want to fill that tumbler all the way to the top,” Lance said, petting the cat, who had jumped up into his lap.</p>
<p>Shiro poured himself a tot and tossed it back where he stood.  “Listen, I did know Daniel had found the perfect ring, but he wanted to surprise her and you know as well as I do that Rachel loves surprises.”</p>
<p>Lance raised an eyebrow.  “Okay.”  He continued petting the cat.</p>
<p>“Why am I drinking this alone?” Shiro demanded.</p>
<p>Lance frowned, hand stilling over Atlas’s fuzzy head.  “Because I can’t.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>Lance’s shoulders curved inwards.  “Because I’m pregnant.”  Into the thunderous silence following that statement, Lance dared to look up.  “Apparently I was going into heat on our anniversary, and you hit a home run right off the bat.  Doctor Gorma should be emailing you tomorrow with the results of some tests he ran today.  They sent me home with a whole packet of instructions.”</p>
<p>Shiro remained thunderstruck.  As in, lightning could have struck him right then and there, and he’d still be stuck on the word ‘pregnant’ while his floof burned like a Roman candle.</p>
<p>“Shiro, I promise I didn’t do it on purpose.”</p>
<p>A thread of Lance’s vulnerability peeked through the bond sense.  Shiro set down the tumbler and strode over to sit next to him on the couch.  He gathered Lance unresisting into his arms, dislodging the cat who grumbled but jumped down.  Shiro sniffed the skin high on Lance’s neck where his mark resided.  It was easier to pick apart the fragrance notes at close range.  He smelled fresh ginger lily, but also smoky oud, and hints of sugar from Lance’s hormones.</p>
<p>It was them.  Together.  Shiro lifted his head and looked into Lance’s eyes.  “We’re having a baby?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Lance’s smile returned, slow and glorious as sunrise.  “We are.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith was having a problem.  He stood in front of the mirror and poked at his bare stomach.  The peekaboo wrap style Farla had chosen for his gown had been selected specifically because he was the only bridal attendant with a six pack.  Now he didn’t even have a four pack.  His belly was as smooth as the surface of a glass of milk.</p>
<p>“That look might not work for you.”  Ina Leifsdottir stepped up beside him in front of the mirror looking enviably serene.  Like the other bridal attendants, she was wearing an infinity gown in pale dusty rose.  Hers was styled in the short-sleeved configuration, with the rhinestone barrette which each of them had been given to hold back their hair stuck jauntily on the shorter side of her part.</p>
<p>“You been hitting the kale chips?”  Nadia Rizavi stepped up on the other side of him, a striking figure in the twist-front halter wrap, with the barrette holding a messy bun high on her head.</p>
<p>“No,” Keith scoffed.  He only ever ate kale when Hunk hid it in something he liked, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been recently.  He was definitely bloated, though.  No denying that.  “I don’t know how this happened.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you could wear it backless instead.”  All hail Ilun’s common sense approach to life.   She gave Keith a thoughtful once-over.  She was wearing the gown in the cap-sleeve style.  “Your back probably still looks fine.”</p>
<p>“Stand aside.”  Here comes the maid of honor.  “I’ve got this.”  Like the others, Cinda was also in the infinity gown, wrapped in a one-shoulder knot.  Unlike the others, she’d been allowed to accessorize with a rhinestone nose ring and earrings to match the barrette in her blue hair.  “I agree with Ilun, backless should work.  Nobody else is doing that look.”</p>
<p>Thank whoever was the patron saint of weddings that Farla had picked infinity gowns.  She’d done it mostly for the symbolism, and partly for the opportunity to let her honor attendants show their personalities, but it also came in quite handy for fashion emergencies.  Also, Cinda really knew what she was doing with wrapping these gowns.  Minutes later, Keith was re-wrapped so that his back was bare instead of his belly.  The effects of the bloating weren’t as severe on his back, and even though that meant his back muscles weren’t looking quite as wiry as usual on this fine day, that was probably for the best in such a soft and flowy outfit.</p>
<p>The green rooms and bridal suite were on the second floor.  James Griffin had booked the entire first floor of the Ebell Theater for his fairytale wedding to Farla and those extra rooms came gratis, which well they might because goddamn.  As he trooped out of their green room with most of the other bridal attendants so that they would be ready in time for their cue, Keith knew it wasn’t Farla’s potential reaction to his sudden wardrobe change that he needed to be concerned about.  Not practical, patient, even-tempered Farla.  No, it was James, AKA Groomzilla.</p>
<p>The bridal attendants arrayed themselves on the staircase at the back of the lounge in the order which they’d practiced the previous day.  Farla had chosen the lounge for the ceremony due to the enormous arched windows letting in beams of daylight, enhanced by ornate chandeliers overhead.  From his vantage point partway up the stairs, Keith could glimpse the groom’s party, all in morning dress with ties and pocket squares of dusty rose, waiting to enter through a side door.  One of those groom’s attendants was Hunk, and knowing he was out there made Keith feel a little nostalgic for his own wedding day.  Then he caught the eye of the groom through the glass and somehow, even from here, he knew that James knew that Keith was not wearing the infinity gown to plan.</p>
<p>Keith glared back at James.  <em>Come at me bro</em>.  He hadn’t even eaten cheese this week, how the hell was he supposed to know this was going to happen?  Suddenly, the string quartet in the gallery kicked into Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.  The wedding was beginning.</p>
<p>The lounge had been set up with chairs close together on either side of the long aisle.  Farla’s Pastor took his place under the floral arch at the head of the aisle and lit two candles to honor her deceased parents.  James and his best man (Lance’s brother Marco) came in through the side door and took their places, and now it was time for Keith to move.  The bridal attendants descended the staircase, meeting the groom’s attendants at the end of the aisle in a figure eight pivot and then walking arm in arm with their assigned partners until they reached the floral arch, where they parted company and took their places in line on either side of the arch.  Keith shared a smile with Hunk before letting go of his arm to stand next to Ina.</p>
<p>Cinda walked down the aisle alone and took her place across from Marco.  Two of Farla’s little nieces toddled down the aisle carrying baskets of pink rose petals, which they tried to throw with their chubby little uncoordinated hands.  Quite a lot of petals wound up fluttering back into the baskets, much to their confusion and the amusement of the guests.  James’s four year-old cousin hurried down the aisle after them, carrying the rings tied to a pillow and trying not to trip over his own suit cuffs.</p>
<p>Then the string quartet launched into Pachelbel’s Canon in D.  Farla appeared at the head of the aisle on the arm of her grandfather as the guests rose from their seats.  She was wearing an off-the-shoulder ballgown with a knotted bodice and dusty rose belt that echoed her theme, and which had delicate lace trim along all the hems, including the chapel train and the tiered veil.  Rose cut diamonds in platinum filigree sparked around her neck like a corona.  She looked like a princess.  James looked like he was about to cry.</p>
<p>As Farla took her place next to James, the Pastor began his opening remarks.  “Friends, family, honored guests, welcome and thank you for your presence!  You may now be seated.  We are gathered here to witness and bless the joining together of James Henry Griffin and Farla Maria Rosales in Holy Matrimony.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The day after the pregnancy news, Shiro had become a research dynamo, locking himself into his office at work and firing off emails back home full of articles from academic resources and consumer watchdog groups.  He wanted to baby proof the brownstone even more extensively than it already was and had begun looking into safety tests and recalls on everything from the cleaning products stored in the basement to the limousine.  Haruka got the expected call from Doctor Gorma and gave Lance a piece of her baby-addled mind.  Lance let the lecture roll off his back, as he’d kind of earned that one.</p>
<p>Then he got a load of the new robo-litter box which Shiro wanted to put on each floor for Atlas.  They already had an assortment of self-cleaning litter boxes which minimized exposure to Atlas’s leavings.  Lance had taken most of that duty upon himself, but the boxes filtered and dried out the solids for him, so that the most he usually ever had to deal with was an unfortunate whiff when dumping the traps into the garbage.  The boxes themselves were kind of automated, making whirring noises when they grated the litter on a set timer, but essentially they still looked like litter boxes, hidden inside enclosures made to look like furniture.  By contrast, the picture of the robo-litter box in the ad Shiro showed him looked like it could conceivably launch Atlas into space like Buck Rogers.</p>
<p>“Querido, are you sure we need this?  The boxes we already have are easy to clean.”</p>
<p>“Honey.”  Shiro gently took Lance by the shoulders.  “Promise me you will never touch cat dookie while our child is in your womb.  It’s important to me.”</p>
<p>He had to pull the ‘important to me’ card.  “Okay fine, but if Atlas refuses to let Twiki take care of his business, you’re in charge of the other litter boxes.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough.”</p>
<p>But that was on Friday.  Now it was Saturday evening, and they were taking a break from sudden baby planning panic to attend the wedding of friends.  They had already committed themselves by returning their RSVP when another wedding invitation saving the same date came in the mail.  Due to the scheduling conflict, they weren’t able to watch Keith and Marco trying to reign in a groom with a romantic imagination to rival the man of La Mancha so they’d have to make do with the pictures, and in hindsight, that might not be such a bad happenstance.  Keith would have noticed immediately that Lance wasn’t drinking alcohol during the toasts and he would have figured out why within seconds, and if he said anything about it within Marco’s hearing then everybody would know.</p>
<p>Doctor Gorma had explained that the reason drinking was so often prohibited during pregnancy was that nobody knew for sure where the threshold was for avoiding fetal alcohol syndrome.  It was considered safer all around just to avoid imbibing altogether.  So, Lance was a teetotaler until his due date in July, which ironically was really close to his twenty-first birthday.  He was still allowed to have his morning coffee, though.  Just not nearly as much of it.</p>
<p>Curtis and Adam, both art lovers, were holding their wedding and reception at the New-York Historical Society, with requests that donations be made in their names in lieu of gifts.  Lance couldn’t claim to know the couple as well as Shiro did, but he had enjoyed their funny and erudite company on enough occasions over the past year to agree with Shiro that the venue was perfect for them.  Color-reflected light flowed out into the indigo dusk past a granite colonnade guarding panoramic windows.  Kai dropped them off in front of the steps at Central Park West and sailed away to find a coffee and a parking space.  Shiro and Lance walked past the life-sized bronze statue of Abraham Lincoln as they went inside and checked their coats.</p>
<p>They strolled under vaulted ceilings, making their way through a quiet gallery on the first floor to the staircase leading up to the second floor.  The museum had closed to the general public thirty minutes prior and there had been no pre-nuptial reception time listed on their invitation, so Shiro had speculated that they must be on their way directly to the ceremony.  Lance looked longingly over his shoulder at the gift shop area.  He could smell espresso coming from somewhere over there.  Shiro’s hand tightened in his and Lance turned his head to meet his concerned eyes.</p>
<p>“Should you be taking the stairs?”</p>
<p>“Shiro, mi vida.”  Lance tried to convey the seriousness of the knowledge he was about to drop through his expression.  “There will come a time when I am sure I will want the elevator so much I will make you check if there is one before I’ll even walk into a building.”  He remembered both times Luis and Lisa had been pregnant quite well.  “That time is not now.”</p>
<p>Shiro had the grace to flush in chagrin.  “Okay, just making sure.”</p>
<p>They stepped onto the second floor landing expecting to be led into the library by an usher, only to find a crowd of well-dressed people clapping and cheering as Curtis, looking very dapper in a dark blue three-piece suit (and also very surprised) was danced past them by a line of singing men in black suits.  Shiro and Lance were not the only guests coming to an unexpected halt on the stair landing.  A beta with ruler-straight black hair whom Lance thought he recognized as one of Adam’s brothers spotted the confused people causing a bottleneck on the stairs and cheerfully waved his arms, calling out, “To the Luman Reed gallery!”</p>
<p>They followed the other guests to the long, narrow gallery, Shiro pressing Lance tight up against his side.  People were talking excitedly around them.  One lady close by them turned to another one and said, “Amada got her way cutting out the yichud, so now Uriel is getting his way adding the bedeken.”</p>
<p>Lance knew that those two names belonged to Adam’s parents because they’d been listed on the invitation.  What he didn’t know was what a bedeken was, but he supposed he was destined to shortly find out.  The jubilant crowd surrounded a large oil painting of an impressionist landscape.  As Lance rose on tiptoe, he could see that someone was sitting under the painting.  The singing, dancing circle of groomsmen broke through the crush, and Lance caught a glimpse of Adam in pearl-buttoned white sitting next to an older woman in golden beaded satin.</p>
<p>An older man in a black suit and yarmulke leaned his head next to Curtis’s to tell him something, before giving him a pat on the back.  Curtis looked gobsmacked with joy as he bent toward Adam.  He whispered something in Adam’s ear that made him beam back up at him.  Then Curtis pulled a veil forward over his face and stepped back to be replaced by the older man, who laid his hand over Adam’s gauze-obscured head and said something that Lance couldn’t make out on account of all the people now jumping and singing at the top of their lungs.  He wanted to jump and sing too, except he had no idea what the words were, and Shiro had too tight a hold of him to get more airborne than a relevé.</p>
<p>Curtis was once again led off in a circle of song and dance as ushers started to disperse through the throngs of exuberant guests to begin seating them in the library.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Griffin had gone classy-assy-assy with the post-ceremony festivities, kicking off cocktail hour with a champagne reception in the garden.  The champagne was still flowing (out of a freaking ice sculpture fountain) as the wedding party was released in stages from the photography session in the art salon.  It was a shame Keith still felt too bloated for bubbly.  He opted for the cucumber agua fresca instead, as he picked over the canapé trays trying to avoid anything guaranteed to make him fart.</p>
<p>“Here, try this.”  Hunk passed him a little plate with a sope de pollo and a deviled egg.  “Mother and child.”</p>
<p>“Nice.”  The sope de pollo was topped with an artful drizzle of creamy, rich molé blanco.  Mmm, delicious.  “Thanks babe.”</p>
<p>“No problem.”  Hunk placed a big warm hand on his bare back.  “You feeling okay?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine, just got a little gas, you know?”  Keith popped the deviled egg in his mouth and tasted cilantro and sour cream.  Yum.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m familiar with that sensation.”  Hunk smiled at him as he got them each a chili lime shrimp skewer.  They dinked skewers and had just each taken a shrimp off to nibble when Marco and Cinda appeared at the hors d’oeuvres table.</p>
<p>“I’m so hungry I’d eat a cow if I ate red meat,” Cinda announced, loading up a little plate with crab ceviche and tiny tostada shells.  Her hand hovered over the serving spoon in the salmon paté.  “Has anybody tried this, is it good?”</p>
<p>“Let’s find out.”  Marco plopped some paté on a little plate and plucked up a tostada, dipping it in the paté.  He popped it in his mouth and crunched thoughtfully for a moment.</p>
<p>“Well?” Cinda asked.</p>
<p>“Too much aioli,” Marco said, and yet?  He kept eating it.</p>
<p>Cinda shrugged and gave it a pass, and that pretty much decided it for Keith too.  Aioli aside, the smell of the smoked fish was putting him off for some reason.  There were plenty of other hors d’oeuvre choices to hold him off until dinner anyway.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro, and by extension Lance, were friends of both the bride and the groom, neither of whom were all that traditional, so he was expecting the ushers to seat them according to which side of the aisle needed filling out the most.  He was completely unsurprised when they were seated on Curtis’s side of the aisle.  The young man had a lot of friends, but nowhere near as big of a family as Adam did.  Of course, it was also entirely possible that Adam’s mother remembered that Shiro used to date her son and made sure he wouldn’t be seated too close to any of Adam’s brothers.  Amada had borne only sons, Adam the lone omega among them, and he was the only bride she would ever give away.</p>
<p>Adam’s parents were clearly exerting a certain degree of control over this wedding, being able to negotiate elements right up to the eleventh hour.  Curtis, an orphan, had come from a mixed religion heritage, a part of which he shared with his new in-laws.  Adam came from a mixed tradition heritage, which was its own unique kettle of fish.  Curtis would think little of conceding in some matters to make his new family happy, especially since doing so would also honor his own father, who had died when he was two.  Shiro could sympathize.</p>
<p>Yet the beautiful birch chuppah at the end of the aisle was decorated with branches from the mango tree, and prepared inside a ceremony space which held special meaning specifically for the bride and groom.  Curtis and Adam wanted to make Adam’s parents happy, yes; but they also wanted to be happy themselves.  Would the child Shiro and Lance had made together face similar compromises when their wedding day eventually came around?  Would that child resent such compromises, or be happy that their parents cared enough to insist?  The chamber ensemble set up in the corner of the room began to play Dodi Li as the flicker of candles approaching down the aisle announced that the processional had started.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>♬  “Dance with me, I want my arm about you, the charm about you will carry me through...”  ♬</p>
<p>James and Farla had scheduled their first dance for immediately after their entrance into the reception, which had moved from the garden into the dining room.  James had hired a ten piece show band to play on the dining room’s small stage, and they were good.  In Keith’s not so humble opinion, James was no Hunk on the dance floor, but he could hold his own, mostly because he understood that the golden rule of leading was to make the follow look good.  And Farla was an excellent dancer, so she was making his job ridiculously easy as they glided through their choreographed number cheek to cheek.</p>
<p>Keith’s stomach made a bubbly noise.  He glanced around the wedding party table to check if anybody had noticed.  The table’s tall centerpieces held tussy mussies of pink peonies, sweet smelling and easy to see around.  Hunk patted his hand under the table, slipping him a Tums.  Keith leaned over to whisper in his ear.</p>
<p>“This is why I married you.”</p>
<p>Hunk grinned.</p>
<p>On Keith’s other side, Pidge piped up.  “Hey, did anybody write their toast yet?  I might have to crib off of one of you guys.  I promise I’ll give you a verbal citation.”</p>
<p>Pidge had been one of the groom’s attendants.  Being underage and uninterested in booze anyway, she’d disappeared during most of the cocktail hour to walk her brother-in-law back to his car, transfer more pictures of Banon from Ryan’s phone to hers, and show off her morning suit to Kuro by way of a video chat fashion show in the parking lot.  Between starting her first quarter at UCLA, maintaining a reduced but still challenging workload at Hawkins Aircraft Company, and, most recently, taking over Lore Master duties from Coran in their MMORPG sessions, Keith was amazed she’d agreed to add being in the wedding party instead of relaxing as a guest on top of everything else she had going on, but that was Pidge.  She chewed the hell out of every bite life gave her.  In this case she needn’t have worried.</p>
<p>“We don’t all have to give toasts.”  Keith chased his Tums with some still water.  “Just Cinda and Marco.”</p>
<p>“They have to give the long toasts with the stories that are supposed to make everybody laugh or cry,” Nadia said, flagging over one of the cater waiters who was carrying a tray full of drinks.  “We’ll be expected to put in a word or two as well, nothing elaborate, just something punchy or cute.”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Pidge said.  “I’m gonna wing it.”</p>
<p>Not cool!  The last time Keith winged it at a wedding he’d wound up rapping and it ended up getting shared from somebody’s TikTok account.  The cater waiter arrived at the table and began passing out glasses of champagne.  When she got to Keith, he held up a hand to stop her from inadvertently serving him a libation that, with his current case of tummy troubles, would have given him the power to single-handedly clear a room.</p>
<p>“You got any ginger ale?”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>♪ “Hava nagila!  Hava nagila!  Hava nagila!  V’nismecha!”  ♪</strong>
</p>
<p>The guests had been up and dancing no sooner than the bride and groom had been announced into the reception hall.  The sidestep with a kick reminded Lance a lot of the conga, but instead of winding in a line, they were dancing in a circle.  He thought for a second that Shiro would blow a gasket after a beta put his arm around Lance’s shoulders, but when Lance laughingly dragged Shiro into the growing circle, he gave in and got his festive on.  People broke out of the circle to form smaller circles in the middle.  Then somebody grabbed up two of the dining chairs and shortly after that Adam’s brothers were hoisting both him and Curtis up into the air.</p>
<p>The chairs bobbed above the dancing and singing crowd, Adam and Curtis hanging on for dear life.  Then Adam twirled a white handkerchief over his head and Curtis caught the other end.  They surfed the sea of happy faces, never drifting too far apart, their connection holding them together.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The toasts had gone by fairly painlessly and dinner had finally been served.  Hunk, always an adventurous eater, had chosen the sole meunière sight unseen.  Keith had decided on the more familiar sounding beef Wellington.  They wound up sampling each other’s food, as they so often did wherever they dined out together.  Keith decided he liked the browned butter sauce on Hunk’s fish, but he still felt vindicated in his own choice of pastry-wrapped tenderloin.</p>
<p>Nobody seemed to have noticed that Keith’s glass had been filled with ginger ale instead of champagne all through dinner.  No flatulence had escaped into the autumn evening; or if any had, it was not from Keith.  Somebody tapped Keith on the shoulder.  It was Nadia, holding a digital camcorder.</p>
<p>“I’m making an informal videography for Farla,” she said.  “Got any best wishes?”</p>
<p>Keith opened his mouth intending to say something short and sweet, but a loud belch came out instead, much to the merriment of the other people at the table.</p>
<p>“I’m putting that in the blooper reel!” Nadia said, completely impervious to Keith’s glare.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The guests had been seated at long banquet tables, and the challah blessed and cut by the rabbi who had presided over the ceremony, then served by the ebullient bride and groom.  It gladdened Shiro’s heart to see them looking so happy.  Adam had winkingly thanked him for not going to his cousin Tabor’s wedding with him, causing some of his other guests sitting nearby to look puzzled, and Curtis to laugh.  Shiro had merely smiled and reassured him that there was no need to thank him, for it was not only to Adam’s good fortune that Shiro had missed that wedding, but his own as well.  How strange and wonderful that one turn of fate could somehow lead them both to fulfillment from out of the blue.</p>
<p>The wedding banquet commenced with good food and conversation.  It pleased Shiro to see Lance thoroughly enjoying chicken and basmati rice in a pareve tomato-based curry.  Kosher dietary guidelines were widely regarded to be among the safest in the world.  Shiro decided that creating a wholesome nutrition plan for Lance should be the next item on his agenda: Operation Parachute Stork.</p>
<p>Lance suddenly stopped eating to say, “Whatever project you’re cooking up in your noggin right now – ”</p>
<p>Even taking the bond into account, how did he always know?</p>
<p>“– you better run it by Haruka first if you have any intention of bringing it into the house.  You don’t even want to know what she had to say about the prospect of giving up her Kabi Killer.”</p>
<p>Talking it over with Haruka was actually not a bad notion.  She was his household chef, after all, and she had been pregnant herself recently.  Together, they could coordinate a diet plan that would keep Lance and the pup safe and healthy for the entire gestation period.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>♬  “Si en una rosa estás tú, si en cada respirar estás tú...”  ♬</p>
<p>Keith leaned into Hunk’s body as he led him around the dance floor in a two-step.  He was a little too close for closed position, but closer to Hunk’s warm, clean scent was where he wanted to be.  A quick look around the dance floor during an underarm turn showed him that he wasn’t the only one getting cuddly on the floor, so the hell with the six inch rule and frilly manners.  Even the bride was as close to her groom as her dress would allow.  On the return pass, Keith stepped right into the shelter of Hunk’s arms, purring.</p>
<p>♬  “¡Cómo te voy a olvidar!”  ♬</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The reception continued in a lively fashion, as guests took turns dancing and performing party tricks for the amusement of the bride and groom.  Lance got to bust out his cha-cha-chá with Shiro.  Eventually though, the halvah had been eaten, the newlyweds’ wine had been blessed, and their honor attendants sent out into the night to deliver the remains of the wedding feast in a prearranged agreement with a mobile soup kitchen.  It was time to go home.</p>
<p>Lance pushed the center console out of the way so he could snuggle into Shiro’s side in the backseat of the limo.  Shiro indulged him, rubbing his shoulder.  Doctor Gorma had advised them that one or both of them might become instinct-driven to indulge in extra scenting, and they should just go with it.  The first trimester was a delicate time for any pregnancy, but especially in male omegas, and the scenting was beneficial for hormone levels and an overall sense of well-being.  Lance knew that Shiro wanted to acquire an additional car with safety ratings specifically for ferrying young children before the pup was born, but for the moment he was happy that they were still using the limo.</p>
<p>“What are you thinking of?”  Shiro’s deep voice made a pleasant vibration in his chest, which Lance was leaning on.</p>
<p>He interrupted his own responsive purr to answer.  “I was just thinking about how much fun that was, and how happy they were.  I’m glad we got to be there tonight and dance with them.”</p>
<p>“Me too.”  He felt the brush of Shiro’s lips on the crown of his head.  “I’m always happy to dance with you, honey.”</p>
<p>Lance lifted his face up.  “Even when I get as big as a beach ball?”</p>
<p>Shiro’s eyes glimmered silver as he smiled.  “Even if your brother tries to get us to do the rumba while you’re big as a beach ball.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>They’d danced some more, and then watched their friends vying for a chance to catch the bride’s enormous hand-tied bouquet, only for it to get stuck in a chandelier.  Marco tried to get it down with a broom and accidentally untied the ribbon, causing white roses and pink peonies to shower down over the waiting guests.  One of the blooms landed in his coupe glass of champagne which was sitting on a nearby table.  Marco stared at in open consternation while the others picked up flowers in open delight and another groom’s attendant ran around the room with one wielded over his head while loudly warbling the theme song to Chariots of Fire.</p>
<p>Not long after this, the cake had been cut.  It was a five-tiered beauty covered in fondant lace and flowers that matched the wedding’s theme, and crowned with a vintage cake topper.  The Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters had crafted a cake that was sure to make the rounds on social media.  The white almond cake’s flavor was as big of a hit as its appearance and Hunk wondered if the word of mouth this generated would finally convince the moms to open up a permanent storefront.  Maybe they’d even consider hiring live-in bakery help for such a location?</p>
<p>The Mid-City property would need more renovating than Hunk had initially been considering if he tried to move on that idea.  It had a kitchen, but not one up to the task of hosting a catering operation.  Then there was the job experience factor.  When Hunk had first decided he was going to throw his hat into this arena, it had been with the notion of creating a safe haven and career launchpad for omegas who only had a high school education to fall back on, like Shay and Keith had been once upon a time.  Convincing the moms to take on three or four untried apprentices full-time when they could just hire on a couple of part-time journeyman might be a tough sell.</p>
<p>From back in the dining room, the show band kicked into a cover of "In the Mood," the cue that the bride and groom were coming.  The guests and wedding party were lined up on the long exterior staircase ready to send them off, and speaking of people who were in the mood, Keith was scenting him again.  Hunk indulged him, always happy to have his affection, but it was unusual for him to show it so much in front of a large group that included a lot of people they didn’t know very well.  Maybe the romance of the day had gotten into him.  Hunk himself had been getting flashbacks to their own wedding day.</p>
<p>“Everybody get your lighters ready!” Cinda called out down the line.</p>
<p>They’d all been given custom lighters as part of their wedding favors.  Hunk held up the windproof brass lighter with his own initials on it and thumbed up the hinged top.  This lighter might last long enough to pass down to his future hypothetical child someday, and he was not displeased with it.  He looked down into the pretty blue-grey eyes of that child’s hypothetical mother.  Keith was snugged right up under his arm.</p>
<p>“Babe, aren’t you going to get your lighter ready?”</p>
<p>“Oh, right!”  Keith got out his own lighter.  He must be feeling really sentimental to have to be reminded to play with fire.</p>
<p>“Remember, don’t light your sparkler until your neighbor does first!” Cinda reminded everybody waiting.  “Lefties on the left and righties on the right!”</p>
<p>They wanted to make sure no sparklers fizzed out before the newlyweds walked under their arch.  The sizzling sparks of light started at the top of the steps and continued down as James and Farla descended arm in arm.  Pop-pop-pop went the photographers’ camera flashes as the guests held up their sparklers and cheered.  James handed Farla into the backseat of a chauffeured white Chrysler Royal before joining her there, and then the classic car drove off into the balmy evening.  James had originally envisioned his polo team leading a six-in-hand carriage as the getaway vehicle, but Marco had asked him if he then intended to retire his entire team early to become pleasure horses, and James saw reason and agreed to the car.</p>
<p>“That wedding was so sweet I might have to go to the dentist on Monday.”  Pidge was standing on Hunk’s other side.  “It’s kind of wild that we didn’t have to drag James off any of those guys who wanted to dance with Farla, though.”</p>
<p>“I think those were all her cousins,” Hunk pointed out, before putting out his sparkler in the bucket of sand which had been provided for disposing of them.</p>
<p>“Still.”  Pidge’s glasses shone in the light of sparklers winking out.  “You guys in for storming a dungeon tomorrow?  Kuro and I interrogated a giant yesterday who said your Big Bad might be lurking in there.”</p>
<p>Kuro and Pidge played pretty much every day, whether the rest of the team was going on an adventure or not.  It gave them some virtual alone time together, and lately it also gave Pidge a chance to keep her hand in playing Meklavar.</p>
<p>“We’re off tomorrow.”  Keith poked his head back under Hunk’s arm.  “Just hit us up on the group message, we’ll tag in.”</p>
<p>“Rocking.”  Pidge held her hand up for a high five and Keith reached an arm out from under Hunk’s to smack palms.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance moaned as Shiro rocked him into the mattress.  His stomach wasn’t an impediment to this position yet, so he’d appreciate it for as long as he could.  He held Shiro’s body close to him as they made love all through the night.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro was able to seize his moment to speak with Haruka alone the next morning, when Lance took his one allowed cup of coffee out into the garden to nurse it for as long as possible.  She seemed perplexed at his request to help him with his healthy diet plan.</p>
<p>“We already eat a healthy diet in this house whenever we’re not entertaining guests,” she said.</p>
<p>“And I appreciate that,” Shiro said, “but I meant for the baby.”</p>
<p>“No spicy food,” Haruka said.</p>
<p>Good, this was good.  “Because Lance might get heartburn, right?”</p>
<p>“No,” Haruka replied, “because if he eats it then you will have a mean baby.”</p>
<p>That old wives tale?  “I was thinking more along the lines of making sure Lance and the baby stay physically healthy until the birth.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”  Haruka looked thoughtful, then sighed in resignation.  “If it is for the good of the baby, then I suppose I can allow him to clean more washlets and floors.”</p>
<p>“Um, okay?”  Shiro ran that one through his head again.  “Are you sure that’s good for Lance and the baby?”</p>
<p>Haruka nodded earnestly.  “It will prepare his muscles for squatting in labor.”</p>
<p>She had a point about Lance needing a safe exercise regimen, Shiro would look into that further.  But first, the more pressing issue.  “What about food?”</p>
<p>Now Haruka looked mildly offended.  “You should already know that I always serve nutritionally complete meals, but I can’t control if he eats junk when he is out of this house.  I can promise you that if he gets hypertension, it will not be because he ate my cooking.”</p>
<p>As Shiro backpedaled in apology, he privately decided that he was just going to have to conduct the dietary research for Operation Parachute Stork on his own.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith and Hunk were comfortably set up in the office for their gaming session, kicked back on opposite ends of the daybed with laptops and headsets, with Kosmo curled up on his travel bed laid out on the floor nearby.  Hunk used a lap desk with a built-in lamp and a cup holder, so he could have a frosty beverage near to hand at all times.  Keith preferred a foam laptop pillow, and to just lean forward and steal sips from Hunk’s root beer float as the game progressed.  They’d fought their way past some cannibals and figured out how to cross an underground moat, and now their avatars stood in front a huge, ornate door.  This was where a new but increasingly familiar problem once more literally reared its head.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Get behind me!”</em>
</p>
<p>Shiro’s avatar (what was his name this time, was it Yoshiro?) leaped in front of Lance’s avatar Pike and danced around heroically, taking a few completely unnecessary swipes at the dungeon door with his sword.  This had to be at least the fifth time Shiro had pulled this maneuver since the session started.</p>
<p><em>“He can’t get behind you.”</em>  Pidge’s voice was dry as parchment.  She had Lore Master duties for this round.  <em>“He’s the only one with a talisman capable of opening that door.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Relax, Yukihiro.”</em>  Lance played Pike with a lot of swagger, which was what the rogue role called for.  <em>“I eat booby traps for breakfast, lunch and dinner!  Damn, now I’m hungry.”</em></p>
<p>Keith’s character, Thunderstorm Darkness, was also supposed to be a rogue, except Thunderstorm’s hidden backstory was not altogether roguish, so whenever he offered to do something a rogue would do, the game’s randomizer could deliver results even less predictable than Pike’s.  Otherwise, he’d be using the talisman himself so that they could avoid this little demonstration of Yukihiro’s sudden extreme devotion to protecting Pike’s furry backside.</p>
<p>
  <em>“We’re lucky Yukihiro didn’t accidentally turn us all into fried chicken by setting off a booby trap when he tried to stab the door.”</em>
</p>
<p>Matt was back with the party for his first session in weeks, and a little salty because his mother had dropped in unexpectedly offering to watch the baby for the afternoon so that he could take a nap.  Matt interpreted this as her wanting to monopolize the baby, and rewarded the gesture by holing up in the new house’s unfinished office to play a round of Monsters &amp; Mana with them.  Salty ‘tude or not, his War Priest character Peacemaker Moon had definitely been a big help in dealing with those cannibals.</p>
<p><em>“Man, you had to mention fried chicken,”</em> Lance grumbled out of character, and Keith’s stomach gave a little pang of sympathy.</p>
<p>On the computer screen, Pike took a crystal out of one of his costume’s many pockets and waved it in front of the door.  Everybody waited with ‘bated breath.  The door opened slowly and creakily on a tunnel that became completely obscured by pixels winking out within less than a computer animated foot.</p>
<p><em>“See?”</em> said Pike.</p>
<p>“Nope,” said Hunk.  “We need some light.”  His character Block was a healer who could wield mana like nobody’s business.  Nobody on the team liked using his mana up for utilitarian tasks, but since Peacemaker had dealt with the cannibals viciously enough to avoid any of the party taking injury hits, they could probably justify letting Block do an illumination cantrip this one time.</p>
<p><em>“Wait.”</em>  Kurojishi stepped forward, staff held out, and for a minute Keith thought he might be about to try calling forth an orb, a spell the fledgling wizard was still a bit shaky on, but then he said, <em>“Does anybody hear that?”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>bok bok bok bok bok bok bok</em>
</p>
<p>Peacemaker figured it out first.  <em>“Mutant chickens!”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Get behind me!”</em>
</p>
<p>Glowing red eyes approached rapidly down the dark tunnel before a brood of mutant chickens erupted into the torch lit cavern and enveloped Yukihiro, who swung his sword around gamely enough that he at least took out the chickens before disappearing in a flurry of sanctified sparkles.</p>
<p><em>“Welp, Yukihiro’s dead,”</em> Pidge said, even as they could all hear the stirring thematic music and clanking noises that heralded Shiro creating and arming a new avatar. </p>
<p><em>“Did someone say they needed a light?”</em>  Suddenly, Allura’s character Valayun was among them, notching an arrow in her magic bow.  The mystical archer must have tracked the path they’d forged when she entered the game and then summoned a mount to catch up with them, and she’d brought her boon companion with her as well.  <em>“Allow me.”</em></p>
<p>“Let me give you a hand with that,” Keith said, snapping Thunderstorm’s gloved fingers so that the tip of Valayun’s arrow burst into purple flames.</p>
<p><em>“Thank you, kind sir,”</em> Valayun said, loosing the arrow into the darkness where the glow of violet light sent shadows skittering out of its path.  Adventure music swelled on the game’s soundtrack.</p>
<p><em>“My name is Zenjiro!”</em>  In a flash of numinous light, a new Paladin avatar was twirling about the cavern.  <em>“I am Shiro’s other other brother, come to complete his quest!  Pike, get behind me.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Great, the gang’s all here, except for Knight-Errants Chatarbre and Ainmeil,”</em> Pidge said, <em>“and of course, Meklavar.  Now, sally forth into that tunnel, time’s a’wasting.”</em></p>
<p>“I’ll go first,” Shay volunteered.  “I doubt anything in that tunnel could hurt me.”</p>
<p>Her character, Ada, was one of the villagers turned to stone that Block sought a cure for on his quest.  When Valayun, smitten with her stone visage, had attempted to revivify her with one of her enchanted arrows, it had instead reanimated her as a moving statue, and she had henceforth become Valayun’s travel companion.  With resistances similar to a golem’s, Ada was one of the stronger members of the party.  Or at least she had been, before morning sickness had forced her player to put Ada on a sabbatical guarding the village from would-be pillagers.  Now that she was well into her second trimester, it looked like the team would once again have a tank to make up for the temporary absence of Meklavar.</p>
<p><em>“That is courageous of you to offer, Ada,”</em> Valayun said, <em>“but I think you’d better let me take point.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Now you’re being silly, Allura.”</em>  Shay broke character.  <em>“I may be pregnant, but Ada is not.”</em></p>
<p>Hmmmmm.  Keith glanced up to see if his husband had caught the same clue that he had, but Hunk was laughing at his friends’ foibles, so probably not.  He’d just call his ex-roommate up later.  Lance might be great at frontin’ as a rogue, but he was terrible at lying to Keith.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“You’re pregnant.”</p>
<p><em>“I am not!”</em> Lance squawked, but his face in the video chat gave him away.  <em>“¡Me cago en la mierda!  How did you know?”</em></p>
<p>Keith smirked, happy to be the one who knew mysterious information for no good reason for a change.  “Just a hunch.  How far along are you?”</p>
<p><em>“Less than three weeks,”</em> Lance sighed.  He seemed to be relaxing now that the cat was out of the bag.  <em>“We got pregnant on our anniversary.  We were going to wait until after the first trimester to tell everybody, but they’ll probably all guess before then.”</em></p>
<p>“They will if Shiro keeps acting like that.”  Keith frowned.  “Weren’t you guys gonna wait until after you got your cosmetology license to start trying?”</p>
<p><em>“We were,”</em> Lance admitted, and then told a story that just had Lance written all over it.</p>
<p>“I swear, you have the strangest luck of anyone I’ve ever known in my life.  Congratulations?”</p>
<p>Lance smiled.  <em>“Thanks.”</em></p>
<p>Keith smiled back, relieved that while it might have been a surprise, it wasn’t an unwanted one.  “So, when did you figure it out?”</p>
<p><em>“When the doctor told me,”</em> Lance admitted.  <em>“If I hadn’t gone in for my birth control appointment and taken that urine test I probably still wouldn’t know right now.  We went to a wedding yesterday, who knows how many times I would have toasted with wine if I hadn’t known.”</em></p>
<p>Keith shifted on the daybed.  “You haven’t had any symptoms?”  The gathering twilight outside the windows cast pastel shadows across the fleur de lis comforter he was sitting on.</p>
<p><em>“Well now that I’m looking for them, yeah.”</em>  Lance was at his desk in his own office, with warm lamp light on one side of his face and cool moonlight from outside his window on the other.  The dry erase board behind him had a heart drawn around the 15th.  <em>“I can smell things that I didn’t used to notice before, and sometimes food tastes a lot better than I remember it tasting.  And I want to touch and smell Shiro like, all of the fucking time.  The doctor told me my scenting drive would start ramping up.”</em></p>
<p>Keith thought about the events of the previous day, and a missed pill mere weeks prior, and pondered the growing circumstantial evidence that sometimes, Lance’s strange luck had a tendency of carrying him right along with it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Zarkon sat back in his private booth at the coffee shop in Soho, poached eggs on toast nearly demolished, cup of cappuccino lifted to his lips.  The food and service was more than adequate in a place he did not ordinarily frequent, but not so much that he would consider becoming a regular, which was precisely the point.  The reason for his clandestine visit came in out of the London rain and, after putting in her order, sat down across from him carrying a chai in one hand and a yogurt granola parfait in the other.  Sharp eyes flicked up to meet Zarkon’s briefly before the double agent quickly delivered her report.  She had to be fast, as she had to be out of the booth and gone before Zarkon even got up from his seat.</p>
<p>“And you’re certain your intelligence is authentic?”</p>
<p>“How’s this for authentic?”  Merla slid a sonogram picture out of her satchel and across the table, then started scarfing down her parfait as soon as Zarkon’s attention was diverted.</p>
<p>Zarkon stared down at the black and white image showing him the tiny profiles of two infants sharing a single placenta.  “Fascinating.”  The mother’s name and the date and clinic where the imaging had been done were both at the top, unredacted.  This must have been taken shortly before Acxa had disappeared under the auspices of protected person services.</p>
<p>It may well be the very reason why she had disappeared.  Lotor’s new in-laws employed a notoriously homicidal approach to problem solving, and Acxa’s twins certainly posed a problem for them.  Zarkon smiled.  A problem for them, but a solution for him.  He looked up at Merla, who had finished her parfait and tipped back her head to drain her chai.</p>
<p>“How can I trust your boss isn’t just using me to do her dirty work for her?”  It would be just like Honerva to try to pull a triple cross.</p>
<p>Merla raised a ginger eyebrow.  “You can’t,” she acknowledged, “but know this: those two crazy fools are already in negotiations for baby number two and Herreh is chomping at the bit trying to get reassigned, which means I could be sent into the middle of that domestic insanity, which is the last place I want to be.”</p>
<p>“You do realize that if I am able to locate these infants and have them made my legal heirs, Lotor’s grandfather-in-law is likely to put a hit out on him for the insult?”</p>
<p>Merla shrugged.  “He’ll probably do it himself.”  Frighteningly astute, that one.  “Not my problem if I’m not there.”</p>
<p>“Your employer would see it as a problem,” Zarkon pointed out.</p>
<p>Merla’s stare was unnervingly intense.  “She could do so much good in the world without him constantly stirring up trouble she has to clean up after.”</p>
<p>By George, this girl truly believed that.  Zarkon knew then that the intelligence she’d delivered was indeed authentic, and that his ex-wife had no idea of what Merla had just done in her name.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Narti was already awake when she heard the fussing on the baby monitor.  She’d gotten up for a glass of water and then taken a moment for herself to stand in the doorway and admire the view.  Not the view of endless conifers outside the bedroom windows under a full moon and bright stars.  The view of the woman snoring softly in the double bed with a cat wrapped around her head.</p>
<p>Then the first whimper crackled through on the monitor.  It was Zora, Narti could tell their cries apart easily now.  She could even tell what the cry was about.  It wouldn’t be long before Roza joined her sister, and then Acxa would wake up, and she’d been working in the gardens all day and really needed her sleep.  Narti turned and strode down the dim hall to the nursery.</p>
<p>Zora’s baby blues shone out like moonstones from between the slats in her crib.  That child was like the princess and the pea, unable to sleep through the night with so much as a drop in her diaper.  In the crib right next to hers, Roza was already blinking awake and looking cranky.  Narti lifted Zora out first, since she was the one who was the most uncomfortable.  She took the diaper bag down off the love seat that Acxa used for nursing.</p>
<p>“Hush little princess, all will be well.”  She set the four month-old down on the blanket they’d put on the floor for tummy time and began the task she would have never imagined herself doing even as recently as a year ago: changing a diaper.  “All clean and dry, yes you are.”  Then she set about doing the same for Roza, singing her version of a lullaby.</p>
<p>♪  “Don’t worry baby, everything will turn out alright.”  ♪</p>
<p>The cabin was off the grid, largely self-sufficient, and just like the twins, they had Lotor to thank for it.  Also just like the twins, Narti had no intention of giving it back to him.  He’d apparently set the place up as a bolthole in case he needed to hide out from his bookie long-term.  The Feds had found it and then quietly deeded it over to Narti and Acxa’s new identities in exchange for their closed testimony.  They had solar power, wood burning stoves, well water, and hoop gardens, but by far the best find was the STOL kit plane hidden away in the shed.</p>
<p>It was fifty-fifty whether Lotor had entertained a fantasy of building that plane himself or intended on bringing along a traveling companion capable of doing it; or even whether that companion was supposed to have been Narti.  She didn’t much care about the genesis of the thought, just the outcome.  She’d put the plane together with help from Acxa and it had subsequently saved the small family from making riskier trips in the Jeep, in which they could have been more easily spotted and tracked.  She’d hauled the furniture for the nursery home in that plane, using the meadow just beyond their driveway as an airstrip.  If they had to make a fast getaway it would be her first choice for the escape.</p>
<p>Narti put the girls back in their cribs and went to the kitchen to wash her hands because it was closer than the bathroom.  As she was rubbing her hands dry with a dish rag, the satellite phone on the counter buzzed.  Narti stared at it a moment, motionless.  Less than a handful of people knew their number, or even that they were technically back in the state of California, and the birthing center in the foothills where the twins had been born would have absolutely no reason to be calling at this hour.  Considering it was riskier not to answer than to give away that she was there, Narti picked up the receiver and just listened.</p>
<p><em>“Don’t respond to what I say.”</em>  Fuck, it was Thace.  <em>“Your former father-in-law is aware of the surprises and has begun searching.”</em>  </p>
<p>
  <em>Click.</em>
</p>
<p>Crap.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith felt like some kind of secret spy, buying a pregnancy test at a pharmacy in freaking Sherman Oaks on the way home from ground school over in Burbank.  He usually drove south through Glendale to get home, so it was far enough off his usual route that he hoped he wouldn’t run into anybody he knew.  He stood in the aisle with his hoodie up, staring at pregnancy test kits all promising within the same tenth of a degree of accuracy that the suppressant pills did.  Under the circumstances, Keith was not terribly reassured.  Aside from price difference, did it even matter which pastel colored box he picked?</p>
<p>After staring at the boxes trying to work out the difference between rapid results and early results, Keith decided on one that promised early detection.  If his suspicion was correct, then he needed one capable of detecting a blastocyst that had reached the implantation stage mere days ago.  The drugstore clerk saw his claim mark and just shrugged and rang up his purchase, not thinking another thought beyond that a married omega wanted to know if he should meet his alpha at the door with a cigar.  Keith finally had his commercial pilot’s license, and had begun course work for the instrument rating which would make that license a lot more useful to his future.  If CFI Stride suspected he was pregnant, he might ground him until he found out for sure.</p>
<p>Hunk’s SUV wasn’t in the garage when Keith pulled in.  Good, hopefully he had time.  If he wasn’t pregnant, then nobody needed to ever know about this.  He opened the front door and nearly got knocked over by Kosmo.</p>
<p>“Kosmo, I promise I’ll take you out, I just need,” Keith peeked in the bag, “five minutes, just give me five minutes!”</p>
<p>Keith headed for the master bedroom on autopilot before his brain caught up with his feet and he did an about-face turn back to the office.  If he wasn’t pregnant then it would be easier to hide the evidence in the office bathroom.  Kosmo followed him and watched him out of soulful blue eyes as he stripped to his skivvies.</p>
<p>“You can’t tell anyone, okay?”</p>
<p>Kosmo whined.  Keith sat down on the toilet and took the kit out of the bag, and the instructions out of the kit box.  “In a freaking cup?”  The alternative was to try to hold the stick in his urine stream with one hand.  He held up his hands.  They were shaking a little bit.</p>
<p>Cup it was.  Keith opened the medicine cabinet and took out one of his old bathroom cups.  Polka-dot plastic, they’d made the trip over with him from the omega hostel.  They seemed too cute to pee in, but it wasn’t like he was really using them to brush his teeth anymore.  He decided to sacrifice the yellow one to the cause.</p>
<p>As he held it over the toilet bowl he was tremendously glad he’d gone this route, because his aim was seriously shot.  He managed to get enough in the cup to dunk the stick and recap it.  Now all he could do was wait.  He set the stopwatch on his Seiko and then killed a little time cleaning up his mess.  He finished cleaning before the timer ran out, so he sat back down on the toilet lid and just watched the second dial tick... tock... tick.</p>
<p>Swallowing with a dry throat, Keith tipped the stick up to read the lines.  It had one strong clear line and one slightly skinnier line.  What the hell did that mean?  He unraveled the crumpled up instructions again: one line not pregnant, two lines pregnant.  What the fuck.  Was he pregnant or not?</p>
<p>“Hey babe, I’m home!”</p>
<p>Kosmo jumped up to meet Hunk in the hall, doing the talk-barking thing that he’d probably gotten from the Husky side of his pedigree.  Keith had been so focused on trying to read the pregnancy test he hadn’t even heard the garage door open.</p>
<p>“Keith?”  A frisson of budding concern trembled across the bond.  “You okay?”</p>
<p>Hunk turned the corner and found Keith sitting on the toilet lid in his t-shirt and underwear with a pregnancy test in his hand that, as near as he could tell, read ‘probably pregnant.’</p>
<p>“Keith!”  Hunk dropped his briefcase on the floor and knelt in front of him, gently taking the test out of his hands.  He read the test, he read the instructions.  He read the test again.  “What does this mean?”</p>
<p>Keith sobbed out a laugh.  “I don’t know either.”</p>
<p>Hunk pulled him down into his lap on the bathroom floor and held him close, his scent a wonderful comfort even as the full knowledge of why that was made Keith feel like he no longer knew which way was up.</p>
<p>“We’re gonna figure this out,” Hunk said.  “I promise.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“How extraordinary!”  Doctor Page had been saying that ever since the urine test he’d administered to Keith had come back positive.  “How remarkable, and after just one missed pill!  You know, most male omegas aren’t aware they’re pregnant until after they’ve missed a heat.”</p>
<p>That part could actually work out in Keith’s favor, especially since his scent’s changes would really only be noticeable to Hunk until the second trimester.  As long as he didn’t wear tight clothes then CFI Stride would have no reason to think Keith was aware of his condition for another few months, and by then he might have finished his flight hours for his instrument rating.  Doctor Page did have access to Keith’s medical records, which included his class two medical certificate, but doctor-patient confidentiality meant that only his alpha was privy to these test results.  Hunk would be joining Keith on a return visit later that afternoon to find out the results of the blood tests with him.  After a long sleepless night, Keith had decided that he wanted both this baby and his career, and he needed Hunk’s support with this.</p>
<p>“Would it be dangerous for me to fly?” he asked hopefully.</p>
<p>“It’s safe enough for your first two trimesters,” Doctor Page replied as he flipped through the results of Keith’s urinary analysis.  His office was part of the Cedars-Sinai Health System, so he was able to get lab results back on the double and had ordered a full panel with the intent of getting a baseline for Keith’s prenatal care moving forward.  “There is a risk of radiation exposure to the fetus if you spend more than one hundred hours at the high altitudes that airplanes can reach, but I don’t believe you would incur that risk in a six month period at your present credential level.”</p>
<p>Keith gritted his teeth.  He’d already logged four hours while completely unaware that he was pregnant, during the checkride for his commercial pilot license.  He’d need to log forty more to add the instrument rating to his certifications.  Some of those hours could be logged in the simulator, but not all of them.  He was going to have to do a solo flight under IFR and another checkride, neither of which could be simulated.</p>
<p>“I’m going to go ahead and schedule a pelvic exam and ultrasound for your eighth week, and of course I’ll be seeing you again with your alpha in a few hours, how’s that sound?”  Doctor Page smiled.  With his square glasses and receding red curls, Doctor Page could look scholarly-serious when speaking medicalese, but when he smiled he looked like somebody’s favorite uncle.  Hell, he might even be somebody’s favorite uncle.</p>
<p>“That sounds fine doctor.”  Keith rose from the consult chair and held a hand out to clasp.  “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.” </p>
<p>“Never a problem.”</p>
<p>The only thing Keith had on tap in between the two appointments was a short shift that would have been Farla’s before she’d married into a family that would expect her to spend her days serving on charitable fund-raising committees.  She was going to be aces on those committees, though; Ilun was gonna have a job and a half trying to replace her.  Going in to work would have the side benefit of getting Hunk alone in his office before their appointment later.  Keith wanted to talk over what he’d just found out, and what he wanted to do about it.  Trust should be a two way street in a marriage.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Hunk had spent part of his day using his employee discount to indulge in some stress eating.  He could lie to Nadia and tell her he’d accidentally overslept and skipped breakfast, but he couldn’t lie to himself.  It didn’t help matters that Farla had dropped by before going on her honeymoon to leave a thank you gift of mini-cupcakes for the whole staff.  If Hunk didn’t lay off the sweets, the pot belly he’d managed to shed after high school was destined to make a return appearance.  Thinking about pot bellies just made him think about pregnant bellies, so Hunk made a pot of coffee to hold that thought.</p>
<p>Were pregnant people allowed to have coffee?  Keith slipped into the office before Hunk could follow that thought down another rabbit hole leading to a sugary pastry snack.  Keith grabbed a Red Pop from the mini-fridge and folded himself into the visitor’s chair, and told Hunk what had transpired in the doctor’s office.  He was definitely pregnant, and there were some potential issues with him flying with a baby on board that Keith felt confident he could find workarounds for and he wanted Hunk to trust him and let him continue pursuing his instrument rating, and maybe not tell everybody they were pregnant just yet because his flight instructors might find out and he didn’t want them to find out until it was impossible to hide it.</p>
<p>“Babe?  Are you listening to me?”</p>
<p>“We’re going to be parents.”  Hunk had heard all of it, but that was the part that his mind kept circling back around to.</p>
<p>“Um.”  Keith blinked, stunned at the same thought.  “Yeah.  We’ll be parents.  Holy... do I smell cupcakes?”</p>
<p>Hunk broke the sound barrier running to the break room to fight off Marvin and Hutch and retrieve Keith’s share of the mini-cupcakes.  His hair was a bit mussed when he returned to the office.  Manfully mussed, he hoped.  Calories had been burned.  Justice had been defended.</p>
<p>Keith smiled around a mouthful of cupcake.  “You’re gonna be a great dad.”  His brows drew together and his sneakered foot began to bounce on his knee.  “I hope I’ll be as good of a mom.”</p>
<p>Hunk reached forward and grasped Keith’s foot in a comforting hold.  “You’re gonna be the most kickass mom on the block.”</p>
<p>Frosting kisses were among the best kisses, this was still Hunk’s unequivocal opinion and he was standing by it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>“...and that’s why you need to bring in a wet nurse.”</em>
</p>
<p>That’s when Lotor snapped the laptop shut on his mother’s earnest face and stood from his desk in the manor house’s first floor study.  Furnished simply with a writing desk, two leather chairs, and an odd assortment of lamps made out of antlers, it boasted little in the way of opulence comparable to the study Lotor recalled from his father’s manor house, but at least it was finished.  The wood paneling on the walls had been fully restored and the checkerboard tile flooring repaired.  The brick fireplace was once more capable of warming the occupants of the room, as were now all of the fireplaces in the manor.  As he strode restlessly through the front hall toward the stairs, Lotor felt a moment’s pride in the visual proof that the entryway had been similarly refurbished.  </p>
<p>Getting skilled laborers to come out and do the work had not been an easy task, as many construction workers in the vicinity had been burned before by foreign contractors who had promised big paychecks and delivered small ones.  Add in the remoteness of the location, the sheer dilapidation of the property, and the challenges inherent in funneling money Lotor’s way without attracting the grubby hand of the law, and it had taken many months just to get to where they were.  The study, entry hall, and a spare bedroom suite housing Herreh were finished but sparsely furnished, the master bedroom suite was still furnished like an absinthian fever dream, the kitchen remained an unsettling shade of red, and who knew what the servant’s garret looked like as Urinska never allowed anyone up there.  But those rooms were functional, and the stairs no longer posed a hazard to any who trod them.  The larger guest bedroom suite, a hall bathroom, and most of the rooms meant for entertaining were still in a sorry state, but since the fireplaces and plumbing had all been restored, they were at least comfortable enough to walk through quickly on the way to elsewhere.</p>
<p>Lotor was on his way up to the most completely restored and furnished room in the entire house: the nursery.  He was well aware that Saint used the baby monitors to eavesdrop on him, so he wasn’t surprised when he leaned in the nursery doorway and found Saint watching for him from where he had reclined in the window seat to nurse their two month-old son.  Male omega dams did not go into heat while nursing an infant.  It wasn’t just some fairy story; there had been studies showing that when their hormones stabilized to anestrus after a birth, they remained in that state for far longer periods than female omega dams.  It was something to do with them having higher androgens at baseline, and it meant that Saint might not be fertile again for six months to a year, depending on how long he planned to nurse.</p>
<p>Honerva thought that this was far too long to wait before making the backup plan, and she wanted them to comb the countryside looking for a surrogate to provide milk so that they could get on with it.  Never mind that her reckless idea would mean a riskier second pregnancy since Saint’s body was still recovering from the first one.  The truly infuriating part was how she overlooked the statistically increased risk of infant mortality to Sincline if he should refuse the teat of a surrogate.  Did that selfish twat not care about her own grandchild beyond what he could secure for her legacy?</p>
<p>“I’m not giving up my rightful place as Sincline’s mother.”  Saint’s young face was almost comically ferocious, situated as it was above a suckling infant and surrounded by the softest fabrics and most fanciful millwork they had been able to acquire, all in an eggshell palette.  “Not for you, or your mother, or anyone else.”</p>
<p>“Good.”  Lotor was pleased with this response, and couldn’t find any reason to disagree with it.  “You shouldn’t.”</p>
<p>Nothing was more important than Sincline.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Many kilometers away, Koloman Maahox sat at his listening station, cackling.  “You just might do after all, rapscallion.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lotor had designed the cabin’s loft office in his usual business style, with an emphasis on discreet recreation over productivity.  Narti hunched over her weathered Toughbook which she had open on the chess table, rapidly clicking through medical files that she wasn’t supposed to be in, determined to get the most out of her session before a forecasted rain shower slowed down her satellite connection.  Her sustained use of the BGAN terminal had probably not gone unnoticed, but Narti wasn’t too worried about becoming a blip on Thace or Kolivan’s radar.  They should be expecting her to start looking into ways to protect Acxa and the girls from Zarkon’s acquisitive curiosity.  Maybe they wouldn’t expect the avenue she had taken in pursuit of that, but in spite of their spying they still didn’t know the Manigfords quite as well as she did.</p>
<p>There was simply no way in hell that Lotor didn’t already have a bastard out there somewhere.  Maybe even a few bastards.  His sexual appetite had been matched only by his forgetfulness in acquiring prophylactics appropriate for any situation he might instigate.  Since he never bothered to keep track of the stock Narti had felt it incumbent upon herself to make sure he always had in his car’s hidden glove box compartment and hidden suit pockets, she was sure he never actually remembered to use them unless he happened to be with a partner who insisted on it.  Someone out there was raising an older spurious Manigford, and that someone was more than welcome to Zarkon’s avaricious offer of legitimacy.  She was going to find that someone even if the looking put a crick in her neck.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>Shiro watched as Lance respectfully addressed the sandan leading the small evening kata class as ‘senpai’ before bowing.  He then began to move through the kata forms beginning with oi zuki.  In Shiro’s eyes he was as graceful as any dancer, but he could admit to himself that Lance’s punches were not as crisply precise as the sandan’s were.  His omega could lay some hurt on an unwary attacker, but he wasn’t going to be laying anybody out with a single punch anytime soon.</p>
<p>“Are you considering that you might be ready to move past shodan, Shiro-san?”</p>
<p>Shiro turned from his musings to meet Tetsuya’s calm regard.  Tall, trim, with impeccable posture and a perfectly groomed taper haircut, the slightly older man was the template of the ‘shit together’ alpha that Shiro himself aspired to be.  Shiro had entrusted him with the knowledge of Lance’s pregnancy, and Tetsuya had advised that Lance should recuse himself from kumite classes and focus on perfecting his katas instead.  It would probably be a few more weeks before anyone else noticed that Lance had stopped sparring and began to speculate as to the reason why, but nobody who frequented this dojo would be so impolite as to speculate publicly.</p>
<p>“I had not considered it, Tetsuya-sensei,” Shiro confessed.  </p>
<p>He had been shodan rank for years and felt quite comfortable remaining there.  Committing to move forward to the second dan would mean committing to participate in the occasional tournament and also to teach, neither of which Shiro had previously felt he could make the time for.  But now he was watching his omega perform mae geri and considering how he might adjust his form, if he were the senpai.  The height in Lance’s kicks was just right and his balance was superb, but he wasn’t snapping back fast enough to stay out of a potential attacker’s retaliatory zone.</p>
<p>“Do the best you can and await the decree of heaven,” Tetsuya said with serene composure.</p>
<p>It wasn’t until much later that it would dawn on Shiro that Sensei might have been reciting that proverb to himself rather than to his pupil.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>Narti made copies of the files she wanted to read over more thoroughly and saved them to a microSD card so that she could disconnect from the internet.  Finding documentation had been insanely easy any time there was an insurance claim involved, which was why she and Acxa had let Ulaz and Kolivan use their combined pull to keep Acxa’s care off the radar.  The loft had a log frame futon that would make a comfier spot to begin her self-imposed reading assignment, and Narti had just stood and stretched to move over there when Acxa climbed the ladder and leaned her forearms on the loft floor.</p>
<p>“Hey, can you watch the girls for about twenty minutes?  I want to go out to the root cellar and bring in some more of the winter squash before it starts raining again.”</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Ni!  I’ll make avial for dinner.”</p>
<p>Narti grabbed the Toughbook by its handle and followed Acxa down the ladder, routine enough by now that she could climb down one-handed easily.  Acxa probably thought Narti had spent the day monitoring the security cameras she had set up throughout the woods around the homestead.  She had been checking them while running her priority task.  Not even Merla was going to get the jump on them if she had anything to say about it.</p>
<p>Hopefully soon that possibility wouldn’t be a concern.  Narti kissed Acxa at the door, a familiarity that still managed to bring her a thrill of joy, and then she went into the nursery with Kova slinking along behind her.  Zora and Roza had gone down for a nap and were still asleep in their cribs.  Narti sat back on the loveseat and Kova jumped up to lean against her side, cleaning her back fur as her favorite human opened up the laptop to start reading.</p>
<p>Narti had found and sorted a number of potential candidates dating all the way back to Lotor’s high school days, some of whom had been paid off handsomely, the rest whose claims had been disproved by paternity tests.  None of them were terribly promising for dangling in front of Zarkon as a lure, truth be told.  He was likely looking for someone with a background that wouldn’t invite more gossip on his family name than had already been attracted, which was why the girls were unfortunately so ideal to his intentions of disinheriting his son.  Lotor had gone a stretch where he’d been more careful with his genetic contributions to mankind, then started getting careless again right around the time that Shirogane had been dating the omega whose mother had become the Manigfords’ own personal Waterloo.  Lotor’s biggest man crush together with an omega he was insanely attracted to, the Freudian whiplash had sent him so far around the bend that he’d ultimately had to flee the scene. </p>
<p>There was a particularly strong contender from that era, and Narti kept going back to that set of medical documents.  The problem with this candidate wasn’t a tawdry background, but quite the opposite.  This was an omega who had no need of the financial resources the Lanier-Manigfords had to offer, and had made no effort to claim paternity.  If this omega had wanted his child to have a claim to the Manigford name legitimized, it would have already been done, because the amount of scandal he could have kicked up would have been very difficult to silence.  Instead, he’d voluntarily left the life of a big city debutante to become the companion of a maiden aunt in the countryside and raise his love child in relative isolation.</p>
<p>This one might not be impressed by any offer from Zarkon to confer a title upon his toddler, a child barely two years older than the girls.  There were many reasons why Narti had not jumped on this prospect immediately, and she was trying to tell herself that it wasn’t because she thought she might actually like this person.  The omega lived near enough that Narti could fly out there and check him and the kid out for herself some day soon, before Old Man Winter started dumping snow all over the homestead and making it harder for her to get a good liftoff.  She shouldn’t discount a very promising distraction just because he had hermit tendencies that might make him her kind of people.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>Ryan loved flying.  He really did.  He just loved his family more.  So when Kolivan had called him up before dawn’s first light to send him out of his messy warm bed on one of those errands he’d been warned he’d be on call for, he’d been less than enthused.  Even though it involved flying.</p>
<p>Still, a deal was a deal, and dealing with furtive disruptions was a mission he’d agreed to and wouldn’t have felt right about refusing even if he hadn’t.  The fact that this time the disruption had a familiar face made it easier to kiss Matt and Banon’s sleepy faces goodbye, before heading out into the morning to take one of the new jet trainers made by Hawkins Aircraft Company on an out of town assignment.  It was going on the books as final testing to certify the new planes for student flights, but that was just a diversion.  The real mission was not the plane, but the person standing near the airfield at Sonoma County Airport and looking very annoyed.</p>
<p>“I don’t need a babysitter,” she said as he approached.</p>
<p>“Too bad,” he replied, “you’ve got one.”</p>
<p>Narti Perdana – whose alias Ryan knew but could distinguish between thought and speech, as he was very good at compartmentalizing – pulled a face but didn’t try to ditch him as they strolled to the long term parking area where a black Ford Fusion waited.  Ryan had been quietly handed the keys on his way to the jet before takeoff back at his departure point.  Narti continued to hold her peace as they closed themselves into the sedan and headed north on the interstate.</p>
<p>“Military escort seems like a lot of trouble to go through over a playboy.”</p>
<p>Ryan took his eyes off the road for a microsecond to glance over at his passenger.  She’d traded in her dark neutral business wardrobe for a dark neutral casual wardrobe, but the polarized sunglasses seemed to be a constant.  She wasn’t talking about the barely-adult omega waiting at the other end of the trip, they both knew it, and she was testing to see if he would call her on it or add another layer to the badinage.  Ryan was only ever inclined to indulge wordplay from his own spouse.</p>
<p>“This playboy has managed to cause a lot of trouble.”</p>
<p>Narti muttered, “Don’t I know it,” and then settled down to silently watching the autumn colors flow by outside the car window.</p>
<p>The drive to the vineyard estate was as pleasant as a drive to go and inconvenience a teenaged mother could be.  California wine country was beautiful in the Fall, all of the trees gilded under gauzy sunlight, and the air crisp enough to roll the windows down instead of running the air conditioner.  A whiff of wood smoke reached Ryan’s nose, and he really hoped that was just some farmer burning leaves and not a wildfire.  Eventually they were coasting down a long, wide driveway so beautifully landscaped it would make a suburban community planner’s mouth water.  They parked next to a large patio with a brick oven and a table long enough that it could have comfortably hosted Matt’s entire Monsters &amp; Mana party (which at this point was closer to a fellowship).  The stone-paved front walkway led to what could be described as an eclectic stone cottage, if the cottage had been scaled for orcs.</p>
<p>“A whole village of hobbits could live in there,” Narti said as they climbed the front steps to stand before stained glass double doors.</p>
<p>Ryan probably should have taken her to task – they didn’t know if someone was watching and listening via closed caption security cam – but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he opened his mouth, a wizard might appear and tell him to turn back.  It was not Gandalf who met them at the door, however.  It was Alor Herakles, looking none too happy but also none too surprised.</p>
<p>“I know why you’re here,” he said.  “Come on in and I’ll tell you why I won’t be pursuing a paternity case, so that you can leave.”</p>
<p>Alor had copper brown hair just a touch redder than Matt’s, and walnut brown eyes more than a touch darker than Matt’s.  His face was rounder and his build longer-waisted, but the resemblance was near enough that he and Matt could have passed for brothers.  Combined with the knowledge of whom Lotor had eventually chosen as his second spouse, it strongly suggested that the man had a type.  Strange that he hadn’t followed pattern for his first marriage.  </p>
<p>Ryan introduced himself, and then introduced Narti as Martina Perdita.  Alor’s raised eyebrow told him that the nineteen year-old was well aware of what her real name was, but he didn’t comment on it.  As he led them into a lodge-style living room, Ryan could observe one major point of difference between him and the others, and that was in personality.  Alor’s sober bluntness reminded Ryan more of himself than of Matt, who couldn’t stop being feisty if he tried, and may he never try.  Rumor had it that Saint Raible Manigford also possessed a fiery temperament, quite different from the serious young man currently playing reluctant host to two uninvited guests.  Alor waved them to sit on a leather couch across from a fireplace big enough for a grown man to stand up in, and served them bottled iced tea from a wet bar in the corner of the room without first asking them what they wanted to drink.</p>
<p>“Your timing is perfect.  Aunt Hys took Lora into town to see the new Disney movie, so we can have this conversation without any interruptions,” Alor said as he sat back in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch.  “Lora is biologically from Lotor Manigford but I don’t want anything else from him.  I have my daughter and she’s more than enough.”</p>
<p>“What if I were to tell you Lotor’s daddy wants to give your kid a title?”  Narti shook her iced tea bottle, frowning.</p>
<p>Alor regarded her with guarded suspicion.  “Why would he do that?”</p>
<p>It occurred to Ryan in that moment that he must have thought they were here to try to intimidate him into remaining silent over his daughter’s paternity.  Word of Lotor’s hasty second marriage must have reached his ears.  In the moment after that one, Ryan realized that Narti liked this young man, and furthermore she wished she didn’t.</p>
<p>“He wants to skip over Lotor for inheritance,” she said, “and he’s not all that stoked to award it to the legitimate grandkid, either.”</p>
<p>Alor stared at her.  “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”</p>
<p>The flicker of a grimace crossed Narti’s face.</p>
<p>“Some of Lotor’s new in-laws have a dangerous reputation.”  Ryan set his unopened iced tea on the tree trunk coffee table and leaned forward.  “If you were to agree to allow Zarkon to put your child ahead of Lotor for inheritance, they might employ unsavory methods in a bid to persuade you to recant.”  </p>
<p>Given the standing of the players involved, an international incident could conceivably arise from that, and escalate.  Ryan’s mission was to soft-pedal Narti’s confrontation with Alor to reduce the chance of such a thing happening, but as he talked to the young man who looked so much like Matt but who acted so much like himself, he was beginning to develop his own reasons for not wanting harm to befall him.  Fatherhood had begun opening doors within Ryan’s psyche that he’d had no idea were even there, much less closed.</p>
<p>“What do you get out of this?” Alor asked Narti grimly.</p>
<p>“I get Zarkon to leave my kids alone.”  Narti sat back on the couch, arms folded in a self-protective posture.</p>
<p>Now Ryan felt nearly as badly for Narti as he did for Alor.  He did not approve of her tactic to pin a target on somebody else’s back, but her body language indicated she was no longer entirely comfortable with it either.  “We can place you all in protective custody.”  Kolivan had made it clear that offer was on the table.</p>
<p>“And keep uprooting the kids every time Zarkon’s people track us down?”  Narti was justifiably skeptical.  “For how long?”</p>
<p>“This is my home,” Alor said.  “I’m not leaving, and I’m not taking up Zarkon’s offer, so those people have no reason to come looking for me.”</p>
<p>In the end, they left with little resolved.  Alor agreed to take Ryan’s contact information and call him immediately if anyone from either Zarkon’s or Lotor’s camps should try to approach him.  Ryan sincerely hoped he wouldn’t need to do that.  They’d been back on the road for a good thirty minutes before Narti spoke again.</p>
<p>“You’ve got a good poker face, but your shoulders are giving you away.  Go ahead and speak your judgment so I can get back to brooding.”</p>
<p>“I just can’t believe you would try to divert attention away from yourself onto a teenaged single mother.”  It had been bothering him ever since he’d been apprised of his mission parameters, but he’d thought he’d been doing a better job of sublimating it.</p>
<p>“That single teen mom helped Lotor cheat on my partner while she was still married to him,” Narti pointed out.</p>
<p>“You mean Lotor seduced an impressionable youth and then left him to deal with an unplanned pregnancy on his own.”  Ryan’s hands gripped the steering wheel tight.  “If he even bothered with a seduction.”</p>
<p>Narti turned from the window to give him the stink eye.  “What the hell are you talking about?”</p>
<p>“You don’t mean to tell me you were unaware of your former employer’s predilection for rape drugs and sexual assault.”  Ryan smelled his pheromones filling up the car and couldn’t be bothered to care.  “You were integrated into every aspect of his life.”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t into helping him get laid,” Narti scoffed.  “Where the hell would he even get– ”</p>
<p>“What?”  Ryan glanced over when Narti stopped talking and saw that she looked as angry as he felt.</p>
<p>“Macidus,” she growled.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>Nyma held her nose and breathed through her mouth as she eased through the alley behind the strip mall where her ex-boyfriend had decided to set up shop.  That strip mall was anchored by a liquor store, and it smelled like some of its patrons hadn’t waited to go home to test the wares.  Afternoon sunshine beat down mercilessly, amplifying the stink from three overfilled dumpsters.  Zethrid and Ezor wouldn’t be awake to miss her presence for a few more hours yet.  She’d had to leave the Starcraft camper top behind, but there wasn't anything she could do about that.  Win some, lose some.</p>
<p>She navigated the stairs carefully in ridiculous platform stilettos, hanging onto the railing like a guide rope.  She’d have rather worn her sandals, but that would have required her to open a drawer right over Zethrid’s sleeping face and it was just too risky.  The stilettos, which actually belonged to Ezor, were right there by the camper’s door.  She’d taken them and then climbed over the chainlink fence around Macidus’s backyard before strapping them on, and then she hadn’t looked back as she wobbled away.  </p>
<p>She barely made it a block before some dope propositioned her, so she used a little of the love juice Orla had given her for evidence and robbed the idiot.  Then she used some of that cash to catch a bus.  Orla’s evidence wasn’t worth shit if Nyma wasn’t alive to make the drop.  While she was trying to balance on those stilettos in a standing room only bus, the thought that Macidus might have somebody watching Orla’s contact wove its way into her imagination and called up panic-inducing scenarios.  Orla was sneaky smart, but Macidus was scary smart.</p>
<p>Nyma needed help, and that was why she’d decided to drop in on her ex unannounced.  It wasn’t that she missed him, she just needed a ride and a proxy.  She kept trying to tell herself that’s all it was as she stood in front of the tempered glass door and saw him sitting there behind the receptionist’s desk, shaggy bronde head bent over a ledger.  An oscillating tabletop fan ruffled his long bangs every twelve seconds.  She waited almost forty seconds before she pushed her way through the door.</p>
<p>“Hey Lorn, you’re early.”  Rolo looked up from his ledger smiling, and froze.</p>
<p>“Who the fuck is Lorn?”</p>
<p>“My part-time receptionist.”  Rolo stood slowly.  He had on an actual suit, three pieces and everything, in some kind of fake tweed.  The fabric was too stretchy to be real wool, but damn if Rolo didn’t carry it off like Fashion Week anyway.  “You seem a little underdressed,” he said.</p>
<p>Nyma still had on her halter and split skirt from the previous evening’s work delivering party drugs to some bigwigs in the Valley.  Macidus always liked her to look fuckable, even though her job was supposed to be hands off.  When she’d read the signs that he was reconsidering that part of their deal, she’d first gone to her figurative and literal partners in crime.  Ezor wasn’t wild about the increasingly likely prospect of having to turn real tricks again either, but she went where Zethrid went, and until Zethrid was wigged out enough to call it quits those two weren’t going anywhere.  In hindsight, Nyma should have realized that Ezor’s big mouth would ensure someone higher up the food chain became aware that she was getting cold feet, but she honestly couldn’t have predicted it would be Macidus’s right hand woman Orla, or that Orla would be the one to offer her a way out.</p>
<p>“What the hell would I be dressed up for?” she asked, dodging the real question of why she was showing so much skin on such a blustery day.</p>
<p>Rolo winced.  “I thought you might be reconsidering my offer of jumping on as a business partner.  My bad.”</p>
<p>Business partner?</p>
<p>As the silence stretched out while Nyma stood there flummoxed, Rolo said, “I left about a dozen messages for you with Zethrid.  She didn’t pass any of them on?”</p>
<p>That bitch.  “She told me you wanted me to come home and play wifey.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”  Rolo’s emotions roiled under a deceptively cool surface.  “Well, if you didn’t come here to help me with the matchmaking business, then why are you here?”</p>
<p>That damned bond sense.  Now that she was within a few feet of him again, it was kicking back in.  If she’d known she was going to be affected this way, she’d never have bitten him.  She’d been crazy to even consider involving him in this.  “I need to use your phone.”</p>
<p>Rolo threw his head back and laughed.  “Oh baby, you haven’t changed one bit, have you?”  He got control of himself and regarded her with glittering eyes.  “Me casa es su casa.  I’ve got a phone right through here.”  He led her down a short hall into a cramped windowless office and waved her to the desk.  “I’ll just wait out front.”</p>
<p>He left her there and even pulled the door most of the way closed behind him, but some little niggle in the bond sense made Nyma decide against rifling through his drawers looking for spare change and snack food.  The faster she got this over with, the better.  She sat down in his swivel chair and used his corded phone to call the contact she’d been given.</p>
<p><em>“Caspian here,”</em> a woman’s voice answered all business-like.</p>
<p>“Aunt Queenie wants you to come over.”  That was what Orla had told her to say to this Mary Ann chick.</p>
<p><em>“Sit tight, I’ll be there in fifteen.”</em>  Then the woman disconnected and Nyma sat there a moment wondering how the hell she even knew where to go.  Should she call back?</p>
<p><em>“Afternoon Boss, how’s business?”</em>  The cheerful young male voice came tinnily through the speaker but also as a low mumble through the office door.</p>
<p><em>“Lorn!  Business is– ”</em>  Click.</p>
<p>Rolo had been listening on the extension.  That damn jackass.  Nyma put down the receiver and teetered out of the office and down the hall on Ezor’s stupidly high heels.  In the lobby, a cute male omega with floppy brown hair was taking the receptionist’s seat as Rolo stepped out of the way.  The omega turned big brown eyes and a smile on Nyma when she entered the room.</p>
<p>“Hi, are you here to make a match?”  His nose twitched adorably as he got a whiff of her.  “We don’t get a lot of beta clients but I’m sure we can help you find love!”</p>
<p>“No Lorn, Nyma isn’t a client, she’s...”  Rolo paused.  “An old friend.”</p>
<p>Funny word for it.  “You seem like a real go-getter,” she said to Lorn, to avoid acknowledging Rolo.</p>
<p>“Thanks.”  The kid dimpled at her.  He did have a disarming way about him.  “I’m lucky Rolo gave me the job, I wasn’t getting enough steady shifts at Short Shorts and I was starting to get worried.”</p>
<p>The kid had been working at a legstaurant that specialized in short ribs and scantily clad omega servers.  Nyma had heard this particular complaint before, from the escorts Macidus hired to service the really high rollers who ordered the party works.  Unless they got patrons coming in asking for them specifically, the servers at those places had to tolerate irregular shifts under the assumption that the clientele wanted to see a different pair of legs and smell a different set of secondary glands every time they rolled up.  Lorn offered to make coffee, and Rolo let him, and then they spent a tetchy while waiting for him to come back.  Rolo sat behind the receptionist’s desk again, and Nyma parked it on the pink velvet loveseat in the visitor’s area.</p>
<p>Rolo had gotten all high-toned and shit.  Nyma didn’t know how to handle this new version of him.  They were still sitting there at détente when an alpha with a red ponytail and no fashion sense hustled in the door.  Seriously, the woman was wearing a neon orange hoodie with that fire engine red hair, and not a speck of makeup on skin pale enough to cause snow blindness.  Nyma might think of fashion as more silly than practical herself, but that didn’t mean she was totally ignorant of its effect on a first impression.</p>
<p>Brown eyes keen as a fox’s found Nyma sitting on the loveseat.  “You called about Aunt Queenie?”  The alpha woman had a sharp green scent like woody ivy.</p>
<p>“Yeah, that was me.”  Nyma stood, recognizing the voice of her contact, Mary Ann Caspian.</p>
<p>“The can says Chock full’o Nuts but don’t worry if you’re allergic, there’s no nuts in it.”  Lorn came back in holding three stackable coffee mugs in one hand and a carafe in the other.  His geranium scent plumed out in a high sillage perfume when he saw Mary Ann standing there.  “Hello.”</p>
<p>“I can take you out for much better coffee than that, serah,” said Mary Ann, before she remembered what she was actually there for.  “After I take care of some business.”</p>
<p>“Bring the business back here after you’re done doing whatever,” Rolo cut in.</p>
<p>Aww, he still cared?</p>
<p>“Because if you’re taking Lorn out for coffee later,” he continued, “then I’m gonna need somebody to cover the front desk.”</p>
<p>“You better be paying me for that,” Nyma groused as she followed Mary Ann out into the glaring autumn afternoon.  </p>
<p>She no longer felt as tense as she’d been when she walked in.  She now recognized that look on an alpha’s face.  Mary Ann was definitely coming back to Rolo’s place of business, and if she wanted to go out with Lorn then it would behoove her to have Nyma with her when she did.  The prospect of returning to Rolo’s company had an unexpected zip to it, like maybe it was something worth looking forward to.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>The new robo-litter boxes were finally delivered.  Shiro unboxed the first one on the parlor floor, figuring it would be easier to set up the ones for the other floors after he’d practiced on the first, most critical one.  He had Lance assisting him with that because, while he did not want Lance cleaning the boxes, he thought it would be a good idea for him to know where all the components were so that he knew which parts to avoid touching.  The robo-litter box came out of the cardboard box in what appeared to be one piece.  Shiro excitedly tore through the plastic bag and then found out that the robo-litter box was not actually fully connected yet, and there was no instruction manual.</p>
<p>He took out his cell phone and called the company.</p>
<p>
  <em>“The manual is inside the waste receptacle.”</em>
</p>
<p>Why on earth would they stow something so important in there?  But there it was along with some other essential parts, so Shiro shook off his frustration and continued with the set up.  Lance helped him unwrap the power kit while saying “Biddi biddi biddi,” over and over again in a robotic tone.</p>
<p>“Align slots with tabs...”  Shiro tried to follow the instructions to make sure the robo-litter box wouldn’t fall apart as soon as Atlas stepped inside it.</p>
<p>“Biddi biddi biddi biddi biddi.”</p>
<p>“Lance, if you’re not going to take this seriously, then just go watch TV or something.”</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>As his mate flitted out of the room, Shiro realized he’d just fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book.</p>
<p>“Lance, get back here and help me with this infernal machine!”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>Thanksgiving morning had arrived.  Matt knew this before he opened his eyes, because he could smell his mother’s apple pie baking in the oven.  He wasn’t expecting them for hours yet, how the hell did she even get keys to his house?  He rose from the bed without waking his husband, put on a dressing gown and checked on his baby.  Banon was still in sweet baby dreamland.  </p>
<p>Matt followed the scent of cloves and tart apples to his awesomely renovated kitchen.  He was tempted, as he always was when he came in here, to stop and take a second to just admire this room he’d managed to complete to his satisfaction before Banon’s arrival had completely rearranged his daily schedule.  Done in subway tile with lime green trim, it never failed to make him smile, until now.  Colleen Holt was in there, listening to the kitchen radio on low volume and prepping the citrus and herb turkey Matt had planned for the main course.</p>
<p>“Mom!”</p>
<p>“Good morning sweetie!”  Colleen turned from the counter smiling, heedless of being caught in the middle of a parental foul.  “I made coffee, why don’t you get yourself a cup and a scone and join your father in the living room?”</p>
<p>Matt looked past her down the counter.  Sure enough, there was a nearly full pot of coffee next to a bakery box of raisin scones.  Having a baby was teaching him that there were some fights not worth picking, and a family member willingly taking on some of the workload unasked was a definite nonstarter.  Even when it was also annoying.  Matt poured himself a mug of joe and slathered a scone with butter, and took them out of the kitchen as his mother started singing along with a girl group on the radio.</p>
<p>The living room was approximately half-finished.  They’d managed to get the whole house repainted and the hardwood floors refinished before Matt found out Banon was on the way.  Heavy mahogany furniture inherited from Ryan’s late grandmother had been placed all over the house, but a lot of their auxiliary pieces back in San Pedro had been rented, and it had been more convenient to return them than it would have been to transport them.  Then they’d run out of time and energy to do much furniture shopping beyond getting the nursery ready, so the living room wound up kind of bare looking.  Ryan liked to call it a minimalist aesthetic.</p>
<p>Matt called it his next project after Banon was finally sleeping through the night.  Sam Holt had a coffee and a scone held precariously in his lap as he sat back on a couch Ryan had picked up at a neighborhood yard sale, and which Matt had covered with a soft blanket.  The big screen TV set up on the mahogany sideboard displayed a semicircle of big alphas hunched in tiny chairs, talking excitedly about statistics and team spirit.  Sam looked up and smiled when he saw his son come into the room.</p>
<p>“It’s the Lions and the Bears,” he said.  The young dog Gunther lay across his feet, brindle brows scrunched as if he could psychically will Sam into dropping the scone.</p>
<p>“Oh my,” Matt joked, and joined his father on the couch to watch sportscasters making their predictions about the upcoming game.  There was a baby monitor on the fireplace mantle that could alert him when his own son awakened.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>Keith zipped Hunk’s sweet bread and sausage dressing into the insulated casserole carrier.  “Babe, I think we should put this under the seat.”  If Keith carried it on his lap, he was going to start in on it before they ever reached Carson, it smelled so good.</p>
<p>“How about you go ahead and have some for the road,” Hunk replied, handing over a stoneware mug with some of the dressing scooped into it.</p>
<p>“Thank you so much.”  </p>
<p>Keith snatched the mug out of his hands and started spooning delicious dressing into his mouth, which Hunk found highly amusing.  Sure it was funny for him, he wasn’t the one who was hungry for two.  That made him think of something important, which he waited until he had emptied the mug of every last scrap of dressing before bringing up.  </p>
<p>“They’re gonna have poke and sashimi there.”  That’s what had been served as appetizers the previous year when the family had congregated at Jin and Alana’s house for Thanksgiving, and since the same people were going again this year, it was likely to be a repeat of the same menu.  “What am I gonna say when they ask me why I’m not eating it?”</p>
<p>Doctor Page had given him a short list of foods to avoid.  Raw fish was on there.  There was some concern about bacteria, parasites and mercury levels, and the doctor was convinced that even competently prepared raw fish might still carry a low risk.  Keith trusted that his mother and mother-in-law knew what they were doing and were beyond competent, but he did also see the doctor’s point of view, which was, why incur a low risk when there was an option of no risk.</p>
<p>“If they put a small plate in your hands, just pass it off to me and I’ll take care of it for you,” Hunk said.  “Maybe they won’t even notice.”</p>
<p>Keith shrugged.  “Okay.”  That might work.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>Shiro woke up luxuriantly late in the morning to gentle breath in his face and a light tongue lick to the nose.  He smiled.  “Morning,” he said sleepily, and got a rumbling purr in answer.  He reached out for his omega’s warm body and instead felt a soft little furry body under his hand.  He opened his eyes.</p>
<p>Atlas had made himself at home on Lance’s pillow and was kneading away.  Lance was already up.  They both had the day off because it was Thanksgiving.  That meant he was probably downstairs helping Haruka in the kitchen.  Haruka, who still thought a pregnancy diet was nonsense just because they already had a reasonably healthy everyday diet.  Who knows what Lance had been nibbling on while Shiro lay there like a turnip.</p>
<p>He jumped out of bed and ran into the closet for clothes more soft and comfortable than he’d chosen for previous Thanksgivings.  In previous years he’d accepted Thanksgiving dinner invitations from school friends, business associates or whoever he was dating at the time, all of which had meant he’d had to look at least a little bit spruce.  In later years this would also mean that Kai and Haruka took the day off.  His first Thanksgiving as a married man had been spent in Miami with Lance’s family, enjoying an impressive spread of lechón asado, congri rice and plantains at his mother-in-law’s table.  This year, the only family member who lived nearby was Rachel, who had already committed to join Daniel and his grandmother for some crispy roast duck.</p>
<p>Unburdened by invitations this year, Shiro had given Haruka a blank check to come up with a Thanksgiving menu back in October, and then somehow managed to forget about it until right that minute.  Operation Parachute Stork!  He hurriedly dressed and made for the door, got held up by Atlas begging piteously for food, then went to the cat’s upstairs food station and found evidence that Lance had already fed him.</p>
<p>“Nice try.”</p>
<p>Atlas just blinked his big blue eyes up at Shiro as if to say, <em>can’t really blame a boy for trying</em>.  Shiro tsked at him and headed down the stairs.  Atlas trotted along right after him.  In the kitchen he found Lance standing at the counter slicing up mushrooms and bok choy, which Haruka was then crowding into a roasting pan around a capon slathered in a light brown marinade.  Shiro leaned over to take a sniff and caught the familiar umami scent of shio koji.  Haruka paused in her vegetable arranging to shoot Shiro an unimpressed look.</p>
<p>“You do not have to be so suspicious,” she said.  “Lance has not touched this chicken, only the vegetables, which were first carefully washed.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure shio koji is safe for him to eat?” Shiro asked.  “Because it’s fermented– ”</p>
<p>“Yes!”  The reply came to him in stereo agitation.</p>
<p>“It is good for the baby’s immune system,” Haruka added.</p>
<p>Shiro felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find Kai standing there with Midori worn on his chest in a ring sling.</p>
<p>“I would beg your assistance with something in the apāto,” said Kai.</p>
<p>“But...”  Shiro looked over at the kitchen counter, where Haruka and Lance had returned to their food prep with a vengeance.  Atlas had jumped up onto the window seat looking out on the garden, where he could stare broodily at the occasional visiting hermit thrush without arousing Haruka’s ire.  “Okay.”</p>
<p>Shiro followed Kai into the garden floor apartment, where the Shinobus’ flat screen was showing the progress of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.  Shiro was invited to take a seat on the L-shaped sofa, and no sooner had he done so but Kai was passing him the baby.</p>
<p>“Um.”  When somebody passed over a baby, was it rude to say no?  Shiro erred on the side of ‘probably’ and accepted the child, a soft, sweet-smelling, gurgling weight in his hands.  “Thanks.”  Was that an appropriate thing to say after being handed somebody else’s infant?</p>
<p>Kai nodded and sat next to Shiro on the couch, looking downright tickled by his awkward hold on Midori.  “You can sit her leaning against your chest,” he said.  “Her neck is getting very strong.”</p>
<p>Her neck looked very soft to Shiro, but he bowed to Kai’s greater wisdom as he showed him how to cradle her in a supported sitting position.  She smiled at her dad from Shiro’s lap and kicked out her little feet.</p>
<p>“Now,” Kai said when they’d all gotten comfortable, “I would ask if you could explain to me why everybody in the nation watches this one parade on the television.  It’s on every year, always with such fanfare.  Are there no parades in any other cities?  I’ve always wondered.”</p>
<p>“I’m pretty sure it’s because of the balloons,” Shiro said.  Midori had discovered his fingers securely wrapped around her tiny body and she was checking out that situation with clumsy little hands.</p>
<p>“Oh.”  Kai looked underwhelmed by this revelation about the balloon floats.  “They are big.”</p>
<p>“Sometimes they get caught in a crosswind and the balloon handlers lose control of them.”  Midori was now pulling at Shiro’s fingers with all of her baby might in drooly fascination.  “Then they wrap around poles or ram into floats.  Since it’s live, the network can’t always cut away from it fast enough.  I think people watch in suspense more than anything else.”</p>
<p>“Morbid curiosity.”  Kai looked intrigued.  “That makes more sense.  You worry about Lance.”</p>
<p>Blindsided.  “I think it’s natural for a husband and father to worry about his spouse and unborn child.”  Shiro couldn’t have backed out of that one if he’d tried.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Kai said, “but if the husband’s worry spreads to the wife, then it might in turn spread to the unborn child and thereby become quite harmful.”</p>
<p>Shiro had to mediate his physical response to that statement because there was a baby leaning on him.  Which was probably the reason why the baby was leaning on him, come to think of it.  Kai was like the friendliest evil genius in the world sometimes.  “I don’t know how to not worry about him.”</p>
<p>“It is impossible,” Kai agreed.  “Therefore, you can worry with me.”</p>
<p>“I accept.”  Shiro was touched, humbled, and also a little appalled at himself.  “Who worried with you?”</p>
<p>“I made ema.”  Kai rubbed the back of his neck.  “The temple on Riverside has them.”</p>
<p>Shiro had been there before, perhaps not as often as he could have been going.  “Maybe I can go with you some time.”</p>
<p>Kai looked very much like his daughter when he smiled.  “I would welcome the company.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>“We’re all gonna pass out from carb overload before we ever get a chance to argue about what genre of movie to stream during dessert.”  </p>
<p>This from a woman who had rolled in the door carrying a tray of Totino’s pizza rolls to pass off as an appetizer.  As Matt surveyed the dishes arrayed on the dining room table, he had to concede that his sister had a point.  But like hell was he missing out on the tortelli di zuca he’d learned to make from Nonna Caterina, or the baked mac and cheese he’d mastered from a dog-eared recipe book that had been compiled by Ryan’s grandmother.  The homemade mashed potatoes was all Mom, not much he could have done about that, but honestly he probably wasn’t going to leave that off his plate either.  What else was he supposed to pair with the breast meat from the turkey?</p>
<p>“Eat more antipasti if you want some roughage,” was his recommendation.  Thanksgiving was not a day for worrying about the food pyramid.</p>
<p>Pidge shrugged and grabbed a roasted red bell pepper right off the platter.  Matt followed her lead and started scarfing olives by the handful.  His parents were currently cooing over his baby while his husband hovered over them nervously, so Matt’s hands were free for snacking and he intended to take advantage of that fact for as long as possible.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>The Garretts had a large backyard perfect for entertaining.  Sliding glass doors led out from both the dining room and the living room for easy access between the air-conditioned house and the lush zoysia grass carpeting the lawns.  They had a concrete square patio out there for the outdoor dining set and the grilling equipment, but the gazebo and the playset were right on the grass, closer to the fence lined with honeysuckle hedges.  The alphas had mostly gathered around the barbecue station, where Jin was smoking a whole turkey in banana leaves and it smelled incredible.  The omegas were enjoying refreshments under the gazebo, watching the children and dog roughhouse all over the playset, as the adult betas drifted back and forth between conversation groups.</p>
<p>Nobody had commented when Keith declined a beer in favor of a strawberry lemonade, and nobody tried to force a small plate of poke on him.  However, the open setting and the manner in which the family members had arranged themselves made Hunk’s forays to let Keith slip him the sashimi his mother kept handing him a lot more conspicuous.  Luckily Kosmo filled in the gap and became the appetizer-stealing MVP.  Nobody payed much mind when Kosmo ran over for a quick scratch behind the ears, and nobody seemed to notice if Keith no longer had an appetizer in his hand when Kosmo ran back to play some more with Manny and Lena.</p>
<p>“They’re almost too big to play on that set anymore,” Alana sighed, watching Kosmo greet Lena at the bottom of the slide with a bounce and a boof.</p>
<p>“You could put in an above ground spa instead.”  Alana’s sister Leia seemed to be missing the subtext, but Keith was reading it loud and clear.  “How long have you had that playset in your backyard now?  Seems like forever.”</p>
<p>“Jin put it together when Hina and Hunk were still in elementary school.”  Alana swirled her beer absentmindedly, lost in thought.  “The yard would feel empty without it.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure there will be children to enjoy it again before Hina’s kids outgrow it,” Krolia said, smiling at Keith over her mai tai.  Then Alana was smiling at him too, and Leia was giving him a considering look, and oh hell maybe they had noticed the dog stealing his sashimi after all.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~* </p>
<p><br/>Shiro looked around the dining room table at his dear ones enjoying the meal together.  The leaf had been pushed in on the table, making it still big but somehow also perfect for four adults, one sleeping baby, and a cat hiding underneath hoping someone would drop a piece of chicken.  Haruka and Lance had made sweet potato mixed rice to accompany the roast chicken and vegetables, they had a warm pot of sobacha to share between them, and there would be Castella cake later.  It was the best Thanksgiving Shiro had ever had.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Narti sat across from Acxa at the small hickory wood dining table.  The girls had already supped on mother’s milk and pureed pumpkin, and gone to bed.  Kova had dined on meadow mice and now she too slept, curled up in the bathroom sink.  It was just the two of them, with a flickering candle to light the dark and a wood stove to ward off the chill as they shared a dinner of rabbit satay with spiced rice.  Narti was so thankful for any amount of time they got to spend together, she’d savor it as long as she could.  Zarkon could kiss her ass.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The mahogany dining table’s two leaves had been pulled out to accommodate five grown adults and the groaning weight of all the food they’d prepared.  (“Sweets, are you sure we didn’t make too much?”  “Darling, we’re Italian.  You knew that when you married me.”)  Banon slept peacefully in a bassinet between his parents’ chairs.  Bae Bae and Gunther sat in poses of high alertness next to their pet parents’ chairs.  No morsel of food that might be dropped from a hand waving around while its owner was talking would go to waste, they’d see to it.</p>
<p>The Holts and Kinkades ate and talked, laughed and took turns holding the baby and playing the raconteur.  By the time all was said and done, it wasn’t too much food.  With Colleen and Sam staying over on an air mattress in Matt’s office and Pidge falling asleep on the couch while the end credits rolled on the action movie she’d chosen, it would turn out to be exactly right.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The kalua turkey had been as delicious as it had smelled while cooking, just like the previous year.  Keith surveyed the remains of the feast spread out across two tables.  To supplement the drop-leaf walnut dining table, the Garretts had moved their dinette set from the kitchen to the dining room to serve as the kids’ table.  Keith had wondered if they were getting too big to keep putting them at a separate table, but then Lena had put a green bean up her nose and Manny had laughed, so maybe not.  Hunk and Jiro had laughed too, but they’d at least tried to be discreet about it.</p>
<p>Now they were polishing off a purple sweet potato pie, and Keith was thinking about escaping to Hunk’s childhood bedroom for a nap before the family inevitably relocated into the living room to pick out a comedy to watch together.  Before he could daydream for very long about snuggling under a yellow comforter that still smelled vaguely like coconuts, somebody plunked down a choko cup next to his place setting.</p>
<p>“Sake time!”  Gorou set a wine bucket down on the table and pulled a bottle with a gold label out of the ice.  “I got the Born this year, it’s good stuff!”</p>
<p>It was good stuff that Keith couldn’t drink.  He didn’t know why he’d forgotten that Gorou would do this, except that the previous year he’d served warm sake, and Keith would have had a little more time to figure out what to do if he’d been of a mind to not drink it then.  Gorou opened the chilled bottle and immediately fell to filling up choko cups.  When he came around to Keith’s spot at the table, he tipped the bottle and wound up pouring it over the top of Hunk’s hand.</p>
<p>“Peace bro,” Gorou said, “I’ll get to you next, I promise.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I can’t drink this,” Keith said.</p>
<p>Gorou looked confused.  “It’s good, though.”</p>
<p>“It really is,” Jin spoke up across the table, “I’ve had it before myself.”</p>
<p>“I believe you,” Keith said, “I just can’t drink it.”</p>
<p>“But why?”  Now every face at the table was pointed towards the little sake-pouring drama.</p>
<p>Damn it.  “Because I’m pregnant.”</p>
<p>“I knew it!”  Krolia jumped out of her chair and rushed around the table to embrace her son.  Alana was right behind her.  “Congratulations!”</p>
<p>Over the hugging arms of the moms, Keith saw Jiro hand Akane a five dollar bill.</p>
<p>“This calls for celebration.”  Tearfully, Jin rose from his chair to grab Hunk up in a bear hug.</p>
<p>Hunk laughed in his father’s hold.  “We’re already celebrating.”</p>
<p>“Then it calls for more celebration!  Gorou, pour everybody else some sake, I’m opening a bottle of 7 UP for Keith and the kiddos!  We’ll have toasts!”</p>
<p>The rounds of banzais started before the drinks had been fully distributed, and continued until both the sake and soda bottles had been drained.  Though he hadn’t planned to share this news before the second trimester, Keith couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry that the family knew earlier than hopefully anybody else would.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Since I forgot to mention this last time: I'm making no money off this fic, just borrowing the characters for funsies.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Month Two: Walking on Sunshine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lance and Shiro encounter challenges in keeping their baby a secret.  Keith and Hunk encounter challenges because their baby is not a secret.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Christmas in July everybody.  :) </p>
<p>Thanks to everybody who has read and kudoed, and shout outs to commenters PyroInfinite, luminiferousaether and Feytality.  Somebody guessed a future plot point, but it won't turn up for many more chapters yet so I'll just leave it at that.  ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>As November waxed into December, Keith found a reason to be sorry that the whole family knew he was pregnant.  Actually, make that two reasons.  Krolia had begun finding excuses to oh-so-casually drop suggestions that they consider naming the pup Yorak.  Akane had tried to step in with a folk legend.</p>
<p>“Do you want to risk attracting a spirit’s attention to the baby by invoking his name?”</p>
<p>But Krolia wasn’t having it.</p>
<p>“If Great Uncle Yorak’s spirit was able to pay a visit, then he’d be honored to discover he had a namesake.”</p>
<p>Then Alana started putting in her bids to name the baby Herschel after her father.  She was a whole lot less casual about it.  This time it was Jin who tried to step in.</p>
<p>“Don’t you think they should take some time to consider what might be the most appropriate name?  You know your own mother waited four weeks after you were born to name you.  Maybe the right name will come to them in a vision like it did for her.”</p>
<p>“Maybe the universe is already giving them the right name through me like it did through your mother when we named our son, did you think of that?”</p>
<p>Maybe they’d get lucky and have a girl.  Hunk thought he had the solution to appease both moms.  “Yorak means farmer, right?  And Herschel means deer.  So we just come up with a name that means deer farmer.  Easy peazy lemon squeezy!”</p>
<p>Right.  That couldn’t possibly turn out to be an impossible task at all.  In the meantime, Keith had continued working on his instrument rating, carefully counting his flight hours and not complaining on those occasions when he got bumped and had to take simulator hours instead, like he would have done before.  CFI Stride thought it was because he had his eye on the prize.  Keith was happy to let him go on thinking that was the only reason for a while longer.</p>
<p>He sat down to breakfast and stirred his eggs into his rice.  Hunk had switched to pasteurized eggs so that he could continue to have them his favorite way.  This kid adored eggs so much they’d both taken to calling the pup ‘Sunny’ and Sunny didn’t seem to mind the slightly blander flavor of the pasteurized eggs one bit.  Keith smiled.  Maybe that was the pup’s way of voting for a sunnier name.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Romelle was one of the few people outside of his own household whom Lance had told that he was pregnant.  Since the advanced practicum involved him doing chemical procedures, he felt that she needed to know.  He’d been worried about how much exposure he might have already had, and bummed that he might have to put his training on hold for a while.  Romelle had been quick to assure him that his occupational exposure had been minimal and they could continue to keep it that way.  The school’s salon was ventilated in accordance with state requirements and he’d already been wearing either vinyl or nitrile gloves whenever performing a chemical procedure, and a medical mask when doing nails.</p>
<p>He’d have to cut back to part-time hours to avoid being on his feet too long, which meant it would take longer before he had enough hours to sit for the exam.  Lance felt like this was a small price to pay to make sure he didn’t accidentally harm his pup.  Romelle also took him off shadowing Twyla, which she would have had to do soon anyway since Twyla had recently passed her exam and now had several job offers to choose from.  Romelle decided to pair Lance with an instructor named Kalon, a big, tatted alpha who was the school’s henna specialist and who was also notorious for being very selective when adding a new apprentice to his small roster.</p>
<p>“Mehndi is an art which requires practice and patience.”  Kalon spent a few minutes looking through Lance’s transcript while Lance sat across from him in his office, which was just as long and narrow as Romelle’s was.  Lance was starting to think they weren’t former closets after all, but rather that a wall or possibly several walls had been put up where before there had been one bigger office.  “Your grades are good.”  Light brown eyes flicked up to meet Lance’s and down again at the paperwork in front of him.  “You exhibit the fire necessary for perseverance.  Time will tell if you can also be patient.  I will give you the chance.”</p>
<p>“Thank you sir.”  Lance breathed a quiet sigh of relief.  He didn’t know what sort of advanced training Romelle would have put him on if Kalon had refused him, but he bet it wouldn’t have been half as interesting.</p>
<p>“Don’t thank me yet.”  Despite his words, Kalon rose from the desk and accepted an offered hand clasp from his new apprentice.  “The first thing you will be doing is assisting me in mixing the different pastes needed for hair and skin.  None of the ones I use are toxic, but some of them are quite smelly.”</p>
<p>It was a good thing Lance’s recent bouts of morning sickness didn’t seem to be odor triggered.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro had spent the first hour of his workday looking over a prospectus that Rachel had put together for him while trying to ignore his phone.  He had upgraded one of Atlas’s robo-litter boxes to wifi after he’d accidentally waited too long to remove the collected waste from the receptacle and subsequently came home to find it stuck midway through a cycle, with the plastic shield up so that Atlas couldn’t get into it.  It was the one Atlas used the most often, his favorite one on the parlor floor.  With the wifi upgrade, Shiro now had an app on his phone that would alert him whenever something happened with the robo-litter box.  If this experiment worked out, he’d upgrade the rest of them to wifi as well and never come home to an annoyed cat again.</p>
<p>It was a glum evening indeed when a greeting from the kitty after a long hard day at work was a turned back with a twitching tail instead of a scamper for pets and kisses.  Shiro had never realized how much of Atlas’s maintenance Lance had actually been responsible for until he had elected himself to take over those responsibilities and then promptly fell down on the job.  So when Daniel knocked and let himself in without waiting for a response, and then proceeded to help himself to the guest chair and expound at nervous length about the rapidly approaching date of his very important dinner to announce his engagement to extended family across the continent, Shiro was inclined to let him go on.  It was important, and also it was a convenient distraction.</p>
<p>“When she finds out I already proposed, my grandmother is going to want to arrange to bring a betrothal basket to your house,” Daniel was saying.  “She’ll want to pick the date for the grand gift ceremony right there at the dinner, and she’ll expect Rachel and Lance to agree to deliver the return gift to her apartment on that same date.”</p>
<p>“Wait.”  Shiro tried to catch up, because Daniel talked really fast and Shiro had been thinking about cats.  “My house?  Lance?”</p>
<p>“Maa Maa will go with me as my matchmaker proxy,” Daniel said.  “Since Rachel’s mother can’t be there to do it, Lance can go as her proxy.”</p>
<p>“We couldn’t just use FedEx or a courier?”</p>
<p>“It’s supposed to be an in-person visit.  Maa Maa gets old school whenever luck is involved, sometimes even kissing a rosary isn’t enough.  Rachel’s mother lives way too far away for an in-person visit to work with her, so it’s got to be you guys.”</p>
<p>Shiro could act like a responsible head of house.  He liked to think he was getting pretty good at it, litter box flubs notwithstanding.  “Any particular reason why I can’t be the one who brings the gifts to your grandmother?”  He’d been a matchmaker proxy before, and he believed he’d pulled it off pretty well for Keith and Hunk.</p>
<p>“Ideally, it should the parents of the groom and bride, but other near relatives who have been blessed with good fortune can take over the role.” Daniel replied.  “For me, that’s Maa Maa.  For Rachel, that’s Lance, unless he happens to get pregnant before the day.”</p>
<p>Shiro strove to maintain a benign poker face.  “Why would that be a problem?”</p>
<p>“It would be viewed as a clash of fortunes.  He wouldn’t be allowed to even touch the gifts, much less help deliver them.”</p>
<p>That presented a conundrum.  Shiro could explain that Lance was already pregnant, but while Daniel knew how to keep it in the family, that family included Rachel, so then she’d probably know before the day was out and might want to call Vibiana, and they weren’t even halfway through the first trimester yet.  While Shiro’s brain was stalled out waiting for a reset, his phone meowed at him.  He fumbled it up off the desk to the sight of his litter box app flinging digital confetti across the display screen.</p>
<p>“Atlas made a poop!”</p>
<p>“That was something I never needed to know about ever in my life.”  Daniel leaned forward on Shiro’s desk, stressed and earnest.  “Please tell me you’ll help me with the betrothal day.”</p>
<p>“I’ll help you however I can.”  That was the best he could promise until he talked the whole thing over with Lance, but he had to believe that somehow they could make it work out.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance’s morning sickness was not odor triggered or strictly confined to mornings.  It showed up whenever it felt like it, triggered by who knows what.  It could be that he was allergic to the sneezes of invisible faeries, Lance didn’t know.  All he knew was that he’d spent the morning mixing a skin cream that contained both tea tree oil and lemon juice on the ingredients list, and he’d been perfectly fine.  Now he was out to share a nice lunch with his sister at a clean food cafeteria, and he’d barely had time to admire the homey shiplap interior before he was making himself at home in the omega restroom.</p>
<p>“Lance, honey?”  Lance didn’t recognize the voice, so he figured it must be somebody who worked for the restaurant.  “I have your sister here and she’s worried about you, do you think you could open the door?”</p>
<p>Lance was reasonably sure he was done puking for the time being.  He flushed and washed his hands and opened the door.  There stood a tiny little beta lady with an enormous top knot hairstyle and an embroidered apron that announced her as an assistant manager.  Wow, he must have been in there for a while for Rachel to go and find a member of management.  Rachel stood a short distance behind her, and beyond her Lance could see some other patrons milling around trying to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be in here for so long.”</p>
<p>“It’s alright.”  The manager offered a smile that did not reach her worried eyes.  “We can wrap up anything that you want to go so you can enjoy it later, on the house.”</p>
<p>This was not phrased as a suggestion.  She was offering him free food so that he would leave.  She must be scared Lance would give the whole restaurant the stomach flu or something.  Lance was on the verge of reassuring her he was not sick, just pregnant when he remembered: first trimester, hardly anybody knows yet.  Not even Rachel.</p>
<p>“Thank you, that’s a generous offer,” he said.  “I accept.”</p>
<p>After that, Rachel insisted on driving Lance home herself.  “It’s fine Lancito, I’ve got class later so I wasn’t going back to the office today anyway.”</p>
<p>Except traffic was about as cooperative as usual, so Lance insisted that she stop at Union Square Park, which was much closer to Eugene Lang College of Liberal Arts campus than his own neighborhood was.  “We can eat in the car and you can still get to class on time.  I can ask Kai to come out and pick me up here, maybe even get a little Christmas shopping done first.”</p>
<p>Shiro was back on his business that riding the subway was too risky, and Lance wasn’t of a mind to fight him on it this time because of the increased risk that he might wind up ralphing on a stranger’s shoes.  The limo had barf bags stocked in the console these days instead of aperitifs.  Besides, the Holiday Market was open, making a stopover a good opportunity to find some unique presents.  Rachel had a loyalty account with one of the parking garage providers in that area, so they parked and started sorting out the bag of takeout.  Seconds later the dimly-lit Hyundai interior was filled with the mingling scents of grilled chicken, brown rice, and vegan meatball ragu.</p>
<p>As she cut up her chicken, Rachel eyeballed Lance’s meatball ragu dubiously.  “I thought for sure you would’ve gone for the wild caught tuna.”</p>
<p>He would have, if not for Doctor Gorma’s little voice in his head advising him to limit how much he ate due to his concerns over mercury levels.  Plus, the red sauce had smelled really good.  Like, really, really good.  He shrugged.  “Just felt like something different, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Well,” Rachel said, the bright tone giving away that she was about to make a pitch of some kind, “since you like trying new things, how would you feel about participating in a gift exchange with me and Daniel?  It would be like Secret Santa, we’ll even probably be wearing red!  Except the gift list has strict rules, the recipients already know about it, and we’ll be there pretty much the whole time!”</p>
<p>So in other words, not like Secret Santa at all except for the presence of presents.  But then Rachel went on to explain what the whole deal was about, and there was a lot more riding on this than bragging rights at the office Christmas party.</p>
<p>“I’m honored,” Lance said, and he meant it.  “But, wouldn’t Mamá be the best person for this job?”</p>
<p>“This would be happening probably a month before the wedding day, and she lives too far away,” Rachel said.  “Nobody who lives close enough is better for this job than you are.  In fact, the only way that would even be possible was if you were pregnant.”</p>
<p>A meatball Lance had lifted to his mouth fell right back out.  It was a good thing he was holding the takeout box at chest level, otherwise it would have been splatter city.</p>
<p>“Lance?”  Rachel looked at him quizzically, then her eyes got wide as she gasped, “Ohmaigah!  Are you pregnant?”</p>
<p>“Nobody knows yet.”  Outside of a very select few who were either on their need-to-know list or had correctly guessed.  “We’re only six weeks in.”</p>
<p>Then Lance had to hold the takeout box away from his body when his sister reached between the seats to snatch him up in a one-armed hug.</p>
<p>“¡Felicidades!  I’m going to be a Tía to a little baby who lives close enough for me to spoil!”</p>
<p>Lance laughed, happy that his sister was happy for him, even if it meant that someone else knew early, and also that he might not be able to do this important thing for her.</p>
<p>“Oh, Lancito.”  Rachel let him go to sit back in the driver’s seat, smiling ruefully.  “I’m not superstitious, but Daniel’s grandmother is.  If you carry the betrothal gifts while you’re carrying a child, she’s going to take it as a sign of crossed luck.”</p>
<p>Getting Daniel’s grandmother fully on board with them marrying was an ongoing project of vital importance to the young couple, Lance knew.  This wasn’t like the situation with Shiro, where he’d viewed his stepmother’s doubts about his choice of bride as a challenge to be bulldozed right over, with annoyance to Tatsuo actually being a side bonus.  Daniel loved his grandmother, and Rachel liked her too.  They both wanted her to be happy with their match.</p>
<p>“We’re just going to have to get Mamá up here early to participate in your betrothal day,” Lance said.  Really, that honor should have gone to their mother in the first place.  “We’ve got lots of room for her to stay with us for however long that needs to be.  I’m sure Luis and Lisa wouldn’t mind covering her duties at the hotel to help with this, and I know she wouldn’t want to miss out.”</p>
<p>“If you really think we can make this happen, then I’m all for it.”  Rachel was starting to look excited again, as a bride should be, and it made Lance happy to see it.  “I will help you keep your bebé a secret until you’re ready to reveal all, but I think we’re going to need to go ahead and tell Mamá to make this plan work, and we’ll need to tell her soon.”</p>
<p>“I agree.”  He would have rather waited to tell her until she was right there to scent, but it was simply unavoidable.  “Let’s do it tomorrow.  We can go to your place after our shifts are over.”  Nobody would think they were up to anything but making lunch in Rachel’s apartment, and hopefully Lance wouldn’t upchuck in there because it wasn’t an altogether big apartment and he’d learned that kind of smell tended to linger.</p>
<p>“Bueno.”  Rachel bumped fists with her brother.  “We’ll make everybody think it happened by lucky chance.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“What do you even get for a baby’s first Christmas?”  Pidge squinted across the dog park at a cluster of dogs Bae Bae and Kosmo had joined up with, tails wagging away.  </p>
<p>All this space in the park, and their favorite activity when coming here remained to sniff all the butts.  Pidge didn’t seem to question it, but she’d been a dog parent for longer than Keith had.  It was a puzzle to him how long the dogs spent in what looked like the doggie version of a gossip circle when they could be running around chasing things.</p>
<p>“Keith?”</p>
<p>Oh, right.  She’d asked him a question.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, man,” he admitted.  “Don’t most people give commemorative ornaments?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s a thing.”  The frown on her face said that was a thing she didn’t want to give her nephew.  “I mean, I get that a two month-old probably doesn’t care about anything but where his next bottle is coming from.”</p>
<p>“Get him a baby-sized leather jacket that says ‘I’m only in it for the milk’ on the back,” Keith said, making Pidge laugh.</p>
<p>“That might be worth it just to see the look on Mom’s face.  ‘Katherine Fara Holt, how could you spend so much money a custom item he’s just going to grow out of before he’s old enough to appreciate it.’  She probably got him another baby blanket with his initials on it.  Matt could open an Etsy store with how many of them Banon’s been given since he was born.”</p>
<p>“Holy shit, Pidge.”  Keith had a brainstorm.  “Get him a baby-sized leather jacket with just his first two initials and his last name on it.”  Was this rush what Lance felt whenever he was struck by a terrible idea?  The power... it was fucking addictive.</p>
<p>“B.A. like for Bad Ass?”  Pidge cackled.  “Bad Ass Kinkade!  I love it!”</p>
<p>Their carrying on had attracted canine attention.  Kosmo trotted over and gave Keith the once over which was his new routine: a deep sniff on either hip and a quick one to the crotch.  He looked up at Keith as if to say, <em>You smell fine.  Gonna go play now</em>.  Then off he went.</p>
<p>Pidge tilted her head as she looked up at Keith.  “So that’s new.”</p>
<p>“Yeah he’s going through some kind of phase.”  <em>Please buy it</em>.</p>
<p>“Mmmkay.”</p>
<p>Pidge obviously didn’t buy it, but she didn’t pursue it either.  She’d watched her brother go through this.  Maybe she could read the signs.  If so, it seemed she also remembered that it was better to wait until the prospective parents were ready to reveal the pregnancy than to push it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“You know I can’t just thrust aside privacy laws without a good reason.”  Zeta smacked his lips obnoxiously as he consumed his marmalade scone.  “Besides, you already have an heir.  I sent him a cake for his birthday and he never thanked me for it, but that’s hardly enough reason to expel him from the Lords.”</p>
<p>Lord Tyrus had received Zarkon in his dining room for afternoon tea.  Both the refreshments and the setting were too lavish for the expedient conversation Zarkon had wished to have with him.  Niches displaying marble renderings of previous Lord Tyruses surrounded them on all sides.  Zarkon couldn’t divert his gaze to a single wall without accidentally locking eyes with a statue whose diagonal eyebrows were permanently raised in judgment.  But Zarkon must persevere in spite of these irritations, for this colleague was the one who held political clout in the district in which Acxa’s last known ultrasound image had been taken.</p>
<p>“Lotor has conducted himself with such disgrace that his own wife had their marriage annulled while she was already carrying his twins.”  Zarkon stirred some cream into his tea.  “It is a matter of time before he is officially charged with crimes of sufficient offense to hasten his expulsion.”</p>
<p>“Unless he is sufficiently tried, convicted and sentenced, that’s still not enough,” Zeta said.  </p>
<p>He had a napkin tucked into his collar to protect his clothing from his eating habits.  How gauche.</p>
<p>“I shall be deprived of meeting my own granddaughters.  Lotor won’t allow me to see the boy.”</p>
<p>The fact that Zarkon didn’t want to see the boy was immaterial to his intentions.  He knew as soon as he said it that it was the correct tack to take.  Zeta’s own daughter was still not speaking to him after he’d been caught cheating on her mother with his pastry chef.</p>
<p>“It is a terrible thing indeed to lose visiting privileges with one’s own progeny.  I shall see what I can do.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“He looks like his mother,” Honerva said impassively as she regarded the babe in Lotor’s arms.</p>
<p>Crystalline winter light filtered through the many leaded glass windows of the solar room.  A crackling fire warmed the space so that the infant would not catch a chill while his father and grandmother took tea together from a silver antique samovar set which had probably belonged to one of Saint’s great grandmothers.  Oak framed furniture upholstered in micro-velvet provided a strangely sleek contrast to the neo-Gothic flourishes in the rest of the room.  Lotor was convinced that his mother had pushed to rush renovations on this one room just so that she would have some place comfortable for her to sit when she came out here to harangue him about giving Sincline a sibling.  As soon as the interior lounge was finished, Lotor would have this clashing furniture banished there instead.</p>
<p>“He has my hair,” he said.</p>
<p>The three month-old did have some very fine platinum hair swirling across the top of his tender little skull.  In spite of the fact that his tiny face already looked cast in the aquiline mold of Saint’s family, Lotor had no doubts about his paternity.</p>
<p>“It may yet darken,” Honerva replied.</p>
<p>Lotor knew what she was really getting at.  Sincline may someday present as omega.  After all, the child’s mother was one, as were most of his grandmothers on that side of the family, and several of them had even been male.  It was pointless to stress the baby with genetic testing at this age, because all it would do would be to determine Sincline’s odds of presenting as omega, which could already be determined more easily just by applying Boolean algebra to a data set taken from a detailed family tree.  There was an environmental factor at play in secondary gender selection, and while the scientific establishment could now accurately predict predisposition even in the absence of family history, they still only had theories as to what actually triggered it.</p>
<p>“You didn’t bother to run tests on me until I was eight years-old,” Lotor reminded his mother.  That was the earliest age in which the hormonal changes which would kick-start secondary development could be detected.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t racing against the clock with you,” she said, lips thinning in that way which warned he was working her last nerve.  “You are involved in a numbers game.  You should know better than anyone that it would be advisable for you to try to get ahead of it.”</p>
<p>That was a dig, a pointedly deliberate one, at his recent forays into criminal mischief.  He must be really driving her crackers.  He smiled and sipped his tea, never wavering in his firm grip on the baby napping in the crook of his arm.</p>
<p>“You should know by now Mother, that I am a gambler at heart.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“This kitchen needs a hell of a lot more work if we’re going to run a baking operation out of it,” said Alana, hands on hips.</p>
<p>Hunk stood in the break room of the Mid-City commercial space with his mother while Krolia distracted the realtor by going through each empty office asking questions about power outlets and local broadband options.  The break room came equipped with appliances, but that wasn’t saying much when those appliances amounted to an eighteen inch dishwasher, a sixteen cubic foot refrigerator, and a space saver microwave mounted under the cabinets.  The sink was a seventeen inch single basin with a single handle faucet.  There was no oven or range at all.</p>
<p>“But if we get this place, we’d own it and we’ll get incentives to fix it up,” said Hunk.  It had been on the market long enough to give them some bargaining room, too.</p>
<p>Alana turned from her examination of the potential work area to examine her son.  “You thinking of throwing in on this with us?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Hunk had talked about it with Keith, who’d pointed out that he was already emotionally invested in this enterprise, so if he wanted to back it financially too then he’d support that decision.  “Keith and I could be silent partners.”</p>
<p>Alana grinned at him.  “Do you know how to be a silent partner?”</p>
<p>The question was made in good humor and wasn’t uncalled for.  Hunk had already been quite vocal about his feelings that they should house omega apprentice bakers in this facility, should they choose to buy it.</p>
<p>“I don’t know a lot about that side of business ownership,” Hunk admitted, “but I know who to ask for advice.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro stiffly got up from the conference table as the newest intern came in to clean up the catering.  He was the last one to leave, remaining seated and staring out the window at the highrise landscape surrounding his offices.  Baujal must be wondering what he was still doing in there.  The truth was, on those occasions when Shiro still performed financial salvage operations on a failing company, it affected him to such an extent that he had to wonder if he’d been lying to himself to think that it hadn’t affected him before.  The low-level malaise he’d previously carried around with him and taken for professional detachment may have actually been this ennui.</p>
<p>Another hard truth was that some companies were on a trajectory so steep that they could not be rescued from the fall in one piece.  Shiro happened to be an expert at preventing such trajectories from becoming a pointless implosion, saving what could be saved so that it could then become something else.  That didn’t mean he had to enjoy the process of taking those companies apart.  Neither did it mean he had to sit alone among discarded takeout containers beating himself up over the whole thing.  That last thought may have had the echo of Lance’s voice in it, and that was enough to begin lifting Shiro’s spirits as he traded greetings with Baujal in the doorway.</p>
<p>Omnia leaned out of her office as Shiro passed through the hall on the way to his own.  “Hunk’s on line two for you.”</p>
<p>“Thanks Omnia.”  Shiro’s spirits lifted further as he swept into his office to take the call.  </p>
<p>They were once again doing without a full-time receptionist, but they’d begun testing out an enhanced IVR program from the startup Matt worked for.  As the idea had originally been his and he’d been one of the primary designers to bring it to fruition, Matt had received the privilege of naming it N-7, for Intuitive Narrow AI Up To 7 Lines.  Callers were greeted by a pleasant female voice who routed the calls so smoothly that most of them had no clue they’d been talking to a narrow AI.  Shiro had even found himself in a few awkward conversations where he had to explain to his caller that N-7 was not corporeal, therefore the question of whether she was as hot as she sounded was one for the philosophers.  The office still lacked the personal touch of a human being to greet visitors in a formal reception area, but for their digital presence N-7 was working out great.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hey Shiro, was that Matt’s N-7 I was just talking to?  She’s smooth like butter!”</em>
</p>
<p>Shiro smiled as Hunk’s cheerful voice greeted him from the speaker phone.  “Yeah, it sure was.  It’s been an enormous help having N-7 around here.  How are you guys doing out there?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“We’re doing awesome!  Um, actually though, I was hoping I could talk to you in the nakōdo sense today.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Hunk, you know I’m happy to help out in whatever way you need.”  Shiro took his seat.  “Talk to me, I’m here for you.”</p>
<p>Truthfully, he hadn’t thought he’d ever be called on for much more than the ceremonial aspects of being the go-between.  He wasn’t all that much older than Hunk, and he’d only been married for a few days longer.  So for him to call and ask for this kind of help, there must be something Shiro had to offer that Hunk couldn’t get from his own parents or life experience.</p>
<p><em>“Keith and I are thinking of going into business with our moms as silent partners,”</em> Hunk said.  <em>“We really want to do this, but we don’t know a lot about what being a silent partner means, like how silent is that supposed to be, is it an occasional whisper in the ear, or more like ‘we don’t talk business unless lawyers are present’ kind of partnership?  But, you have played that role before in business, you’ve got loads more experience than either of us in that arena.  I was hoping you could give me a rundown on what would be expected of us.”</em></p>
<p>Shiro smiled, confidence fully restored.  “You bet.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance and Rachel sat side by side on her living room couch, with Rachel’s 2-in-1 laptop folded on the coffee table at an angle so that they could both see their mother in the Skype window.  The penthouse apartment no longer looked like a realtor model setup.  The turnkey furniture was still there, but so were a lot of homey items, some taken from the storage room when it got turned into Lance’s office, others added as Rachel lived her life and brought new things into it.</p>
<p>Vibiana sat on her flouncy pink bed in Casa Bueno’s caretaker cottage, sunlight bouncing in past the white valance curtains behind her.  Luis and Lisa had taken the cottage’s master suite, and Nadia and Sylvio, being not yet of an age where privacy was a premium, were sharing a bedroom with two twin beds and a room divider in it.  Vibiana had decided to forego redecorating the remaining bedroom, declaring that it was in such good condition there was no justification to spend time and money revamping it.  Lance thought maybe she just liked all the ruffles.</p>
<p>
  <em>“What are you two up to that I have to sneak away for you to tell me about it?”</em>
</p>
<p>“We have news,” Rachel said.  “Big news, but first we must swear you to secrecy.”</p>
<p><em>“I don’t know if I should be flattered or afraid.”</em>  Vibiana sat up straighter on the bed.  <em>“I swear I will keep your secrets until you blurt them out yourselves.”</em></p>
<p>Lance gasped dramatically.  “¡Mamá!”</p>
<p>
  <em>“I raised both of you.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Look!”  Rachel held her blinged-out hand up for the webcam to get a closeup.  “He asked me Mamá, and I said yes!”</p>
<p>Thence proceeded such squealing and squeeing that at one point Vibiana had to move out of range of her webcam to go to the bedroom door and tell someone that nothing was wrong, so shoo.  She came back to the screen, still glowing with joy.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Mi angelita, I am so happy for you.  Is this what you were going to tell us all tomorrow in this big family video chat we are having?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Yes, Mamá, but there’s more.”  </p>
<p>Rachel went on to explain the betrothal day and the responsibilities expected of the parents of the bride, or their proxy.  Vibiana looked confused.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I thought Daniel was a nice Catholic boy?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh, he is,” Rachel nodded.  “We’re hoping to get married in the Church of the Transfiguration, if it is available on the day.  But it’s family tradition, you know?  It’s important to uphold it.”</p>
<p>Vibiana nodded, brushing a tear from her eye.  <em>“I do know.  That is why I know that I will be making your gown, mija.  If you’re getting married in a church we will have to cover your neckline, but you can have a chapel train!  I will need all of your measurements so I can begin as soon as possible.”</em></p>
<p>Rachel and Vibiana blubbered at one another over Skype for another few minutes before the next big news became relevant.</p>
<p><em>“Do not take this as me backing out, because I am not,”</em> Vibiana said, shaking her finger at the camera, <em>“but based on what you have told me, why is it that your brother was not the first to be asked for helping you with this betrothal day?  It seems to me like it would have been more convenient for you, mija.  A big wedding can make you loco, you must manage your time wisely.”</em></p>
<p>“I can’t do it, Mamá,” Lance said.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Don’t tell me Shiro is taking you out of town at such a momentous time.”</em>
</p>
<p>“No, Mamá, he’s not.  I’m pregnant.”</p>
<p>Squees and joyful shouts began anew, followed by another trip out of frame so Vibiana could tell somebody she was fine, now go on.  Based on the back talk she was getting, it sounded like Lisa and the kids.  Vibiana came back in the frame, red-cheeked and smiling.</p>
<p><em>“All of this happy news, I may pass out from elation.”</em>  She laughed.  <em>“It is a good thing you are telling everybody tomorrow, Lisa is beside herself wondering why all the shouting in here.”</em></p>
<p>Lance and Rachel traded a look.  “We’re telling everybody about Rachel, Mamá, not me,” he said.  “I’m still in my first trimester.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Mijo!  Why are you telling me now!”</em>
</p>
<p>Vibiana dove over the side of the bed and came back up with a chancleta in her hand, as if she could fling it through the screen.  They rushed to explain why Lance couldn’t touch the betrothal day gifts while he was pregnant.</p>
<p>“That’s assuming he’s still pregnant when the betrothal day arrives,” Rachel temporized.  “For all we know right now, Master Sypat could pick a day after Lance’s due date.  Daniel said it would most likely be within a year, but that’s still a big window.”</p>
<p><em>“Then your brother would be having to juggle this duty with taking care of a newborn.  It is better that I do it.”</em>  Vibiana let the chancleta fall back to the floor and settled one of the fluffy bed pillows in her lap so she could rest her arms on it.  <em>“I always thought your Mima’s papá was the one who gave her all the superstitions, but maybe it was your bisabuela this whole time.”</em></p>
<p>“Bisabuela Juan?”  Rachel may have some memories of him, he’d still been among the living when the family had first moved back to Cárdenas.  “Why do you say that, Mamá?”</p>
<p>Lance was curious too.  It had long been rumored in their neighborhood that Bisabuelo Arnaldo had been a Freemason.  It was a rumor that had outlived the actual man, who unfortunately had not lived to see the return of his granddaughter’s family to Cárdenas.  Arnaldo Garcia’s spouse Juan survived him by only a few years, joining him in the hereafter while Lance was still an infant.  But if anyone was going to be passing on mystic traditions, Lance would have pegged Arnaldo as the one to be doing it before ever suspecting Juan, just based on reputation.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not a lot of people remember this, but Bisabuela Juan’s full name was Juan Chang Arenas de Garcia.”</em>
</p>
<p>“You mean he was devoted to Chango?” Rachel asked.</p>
<p>
  <em>“No, mija, though you are not the first to hear his name and wonder if he was a devotee of the orisha.  But no, he was a Chang.  His father was un colono asiático.  He met and married your Tatarabuela Rakeli in Regla and then they ran a restaurant together in el barrio Chino de la Habana.”</em>
</p>
<p>A restaurant owner?  Maybe that’s why Mima had always been so bold with her cooking, never worrying that she might waste ingredients on something that wouldn’t come out.  She knew how to make sure it would come out to something good, even if it wasn’t the exact something she’d been going for to begin with.</p>
<p>“Mamá, how come we never knew about this?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Because they were lost to us long before either of you were daydreams, and nobody liked to make your bisabuela cry.  They experienced much privation after the troubles, and their health suffered.  I sometimes think it was a shame they did not live long enough to see the legalization of paladares, but then I wonder how they would have dealt with the meantime.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Do you think that’s where Mima got her recipe for arroz frito?” Rachel asked.  “From Bisabuela Juan?”</p>
<p><em>“Who got it from his parents.”</em>  Vibiana nodded.  <em>“Mi mamá used to tell me that version of arroz frito was on their restaurant’s menu.”</em></p>
<p>“I should make it tomorrow for dinner!”  Rachel held her hands together in manic glee.</p>
<p>“Rachel, aren’t you having that dinner catered?”</p>
<p>She had agonized over that menu.  Eight courses for six diners (not counting the people who would be joining on video chat) to maximize the couple’s engagement luck without making the apartment’s dining space feel cramped.  She already had her order in with a restaurant that had the seal of approval from Daniel’s grandmother.</p>
<p>“Yes, but we don’t have fried rice on that menu.”  Rachel’s pretty features became as indurate as a bust of Aphrodite.  “When I add it, we’ll have nine courses.  Nine is lucky too!”</p>
<p>So that’s how Lance wound up wandering around Union Square again with Rachel, only this time neither of them was in a hurry because they’d both quietly cleared their schedules for the conversation with Mamá, and Rachel was taking Lance home afterward.  They strolled through the heather blue daylight under pruned trees dusted with white like powdered sugar, both of them bundled up against the cooling weather in olive green puffer coats.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you’re not putting too much on yourself?” Lance asked as they browsed a specialty kitchenware vendor’s booth.  </p>
<p>They’d already found fresh produce, cured meats, cooking oils and rice, and Lance had lucked into finding the cutest little keychain ever for Coran.  It was a tiny little plush dragon with a great big mustache, it was so perfect.  Shiro happened to be on a first-name basis with the landlord of the villa on Waiheke Island where Coran and Nanette were spending most of December, and he’d promised he’d make sure everybody’s gifts reached the couple there before they moved on to their next port of call.  Now Lance and Rachel were looking for a wok.  Rachel already owned an eight inch with a wok ring, but when they’d compiled her list of ingredients she’d realized she needed a twenty-six inch like the one in Daniel’s kitchen if she was going to stir fry that much food.</p>
<p>“Nothing is too much for this, Lancito.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>As he took the long, long elevator ride to the top floor with Lance snugged up against him, Shiro mentally prepared himself for anything.  Not for being on the top floor of a very tall building, he was ready for that, though he did appreciate Lance trying to comfort him as their elevator car smoothly ascended.  Just because it was Friday the 13th didn’t mean the elevator cables were going to snap or anything like that.  No, he needed to have his head in the game for the banquet situation they would be walking into.  Despite the small guest list and Rachel’s insistence on calling it a dinner party, Shiro was positive that the level of formality would be closer to a banquet, and Lance’s admission in the car on the way over that his sister had already schooled him on expected etiquette was the clincher.</p>
<p>Shiro had attended many business banquets over his years in the finance industry.  There were things that one did, and things that one did not do, or else risk being known for having bad table manners and suspected of possessing worse manners in other respects.  The fact that there were no business deals depending on this dinner going smoothly was no cause to relax, for a much more important sort of merger was on the table this time.  Shiro was dressed inoffensively to the eyes, in a three piece suit in a neutral shade of blue-grey, with a purple pocket square and tie.  Lance offset his look in a jumpsuit on the warmer end of the violet spectrum, to better suit his skin tone.</p>
<p>Lance was also wearing his anniversary watch and his courting necklace, which never failed to please Shiro’s eyes.  He was still appreciating the sight, and Lance was still humoring him, when Rachel greeted them at the front door of the apartment.  People often commented about how much the siblings resembled each other when meeting them together, and Shiro certainly saw it, in their leggy frames, v-shaped jaws, warm brown skin and dark blue eyes.  Rachel’s skin and eyes were a little darker than Lance’s but they had to be standing right next to each other for it to be noticeable.  Aside from primary gender, the difference between them that was immediately noticeable was the hair.</p>
<p>Lance must have his father’s hair, because Rachel definitely had their mother’s: thick, dark brown masses of curls that she usually just let tumble down her back like wisteria.  Tonight, she’d tamed it all up into a high braided bun, which she wore with a high-necked dress in the golden pink color of dawn.  She looked absolutely stunning, and a little nervous, though Shiro thought she was covering it well.  She took their coats and showed them where to exchange their shoes for house slippers; and here was an early sign that she’d gone all out, for gone were the neon flip flops she usually offered her guests, replaced by embroidered house slippers.  Lance gave her the small potted Dianthus they’d selected as a hostess gift, and some of her self-possession slipped as she gave her brother a big hug.</p>
<p>“I’ll take care of the plant for you.”  Suddenly there was Daniel, looking very sharp in a royal blue two-piece suit with a coral tie and pocket square that he’d probably picked out to match his fiancée in much the same way that Shiro had selected his color scheme to coordinate with Lance.</p>
<p>Shiro thanked him and clapped him on the arm in camaraderie.  “Say, what are we listening to?”  The music drifting in from the living room stereo system was liltingly lovely.</p>
<p>“It’s the Butterfly Lovers Concerto,” Daniel answered.</p>
<p>“It’s beautiful.”</p>
<p>Daniel smiled, carrying the Dianthus out to the apartment’s porch garden, as Rachel regained her composure and offered to seat them for tea.  Lance accepted graciously for both of them and Rachel led them through the kitchen into the dining room, where her table was set with a red and gold table runner and a lazy Susan, and here was another sign that the Alvárez gene for being extra was expressing itself because instead of the tapered wooden chopsticks Shiro had gotten her as a housewarming present when she’d moved in, the place settings had ornately decorated red ceramic chopsticks.  Made in a style intended specifically for the cuisine they would be eating tonight, they were longer than the chopsticks Shiro’s family used at home, with blunter ends resembling musical drumsticks.  Shiro was gratified to see that at least she’d placed them on the gold dragon rests from the housewarming present.  He also recognized the rather whimsical gold-etched dishware she only brought out for dinner parties, and some pieces from her mismatched gaiwan collection.</p>
<p>Shiro personally thought the gaiwan was a good call.  When Rachel began dating Daniel, he’d begun introducing her to his world, which included a lot of parts of Chinatown that tourists didn’t often get to see.  She already enjoyed tea, and thanks to Daniel she’d taken a liking to delicate varieties that could be prepared in the same vessel they were intended to be drunk in, that vessel being the gaiwan.  She’d started a collection of the lidded cup and saucer sets which was already a good deal more extensive than what was represented on the table, for which she’d chosen six of her very nicest ones.  Gongfu-cha could be every bit as demanding a method of tea preparation as chadō, and a high stress dinner to impart important news was not the time to debut her skills if she had any doubts in that area.</p>
<p>If all went well, Rachel would have to become competent at formal brewing and serving etiquette within a year’s time.  In the meantime, she’d ensured they could still enjoy a nice tea that she knew she could make and serve properly under scrutiny.  Shiro and Lance were led to seats on the side of the table facing into the living room to trade pleasantries with the already seated guests.  Daniel’s grandmother, a beta elder with mist grey hair worn in a loose bun, had been given the seat of honor, which according to the banquet rules being applied here was the seat facing the front foyer and door.  Master Sypat, a middle-aged beta sporting neatly trimmed Van Dyke whiskers, was seated to her left, and Shiro would be seated to her immediate right, with Lance on his right.</p>
<p>Shiro knew that bowing was not strictly required in this setting, but he also suspected Madame Li would appreciate it regardless, so he did so, and saw out of the corner of his eye that Lance was following his lead.  Madame Li inclined her head to them, pleased with the show of respect due an elder.  Next to her, Sypat did the same, though whether he was pleased or not was harder to tell by his facial expression.  As Sypat carried a great deal of influence into this situation, figuring out his tells was of vital importance.  Shiro resolved to keep one eye on him at all times.</p>
<p>He introduced himself and Lance, and was formally introduced to Sypat and Daniel’s grandmother, whom he already knew used an amalgamated first name of Xarnaren as her legal name, because she was Daniel’s beneficiary on his 1099.  But of course that didn’t mean she used that name in daily life, or expect to be addressed that way by anyone but a census taker.</p>
<p>“How do you do,” she said.  “My name is Xiá-Nà-Ren.  Many people call me Ren.”</p>
<p>“What a lovely name,” Shiro said.  “Ren means lotus in my first language.”</p>
<p>Ren smiled mildly and nodded, and Shiro knew that she was merely acknowledging the implied compliment, not actually inviting him to call her Ren, even though he had invited her to call him Shiro.  She might, in fact, be waiting to see if he would breach protocol by assuming he had permission without being explicitly informed of it first.  Daniel returned from sorting the gift and took his seat on Sypat’s left, addressing Ren as Maa Maa, which was appropriate only for him as he was her grandson.  Rachel then came around the table to pour their tea, and she called Ren ‘Ayì’ a respectful address which meant Auntie, which set the tone for the other guests.</p>
<p>Rachel had selected a mellow white peony tea, lightly fragrant with a short brewing time at a temperature below boiling.  It was an excellent choice in Shiro’s opinion, not just because it was a lovely tea, but also because it reduced the chances of any of the guests accidentally hurting themselves from hot liquid, and kept the downtime to a minimum.  Of course, he was coming at it from a perspective influenced by his own upbringing, in which reducing discomfort was of the highest priority in a group setting, when Ren might very well subscribe to the belief that enduring discomfort calmly was a virtue in itself.  As Rachel made her way around the table, serving eldest to youngest, fingers were tapped on the table tops, unobtrusively showing appreciation for the tea.</p>
<p>Rachel passed out warmed towels and then began to bring out the feast.  It seemed she was going to be serving three courses at a time rather than all at once, perhaps because her table was not very big and didn’t have a leaf to accommodate a larger lazy Susan.  Shiro thought about getting the young couple a table with an extendable leaf as part of their wedding gift, noting that the dining room itself was not big enough to comfortably seat more than eight unless they moved the sideboard out into the living room (and to think he’d once wanted to move hyper-social Lance in here).  The lazy Susan was soon piled to its limits with serving platters of char siu and gai lan, and a tray containing steamed scallops in garlic and ginger sauce over glass noodles presented charmingly in the scallops’ cleaned shells.  Next to these were the communal chopsticks and assorted serving spoons.</p>
<p>It wasn’t quite time to start digging in yet, though.  Rachel went back into the kitchen and brought back a bottle of baijiu that must have set Daniel back a pretty penny, and a bottle of Tropical 7 UP that could only be intended for Lance.  Shiro risked a glance sideways at his mate, who was glancing sideways back at him.  That and the guilty but also sort of smirky sense through the bond told him all he needed to know as to whether he’d told Rachel that he was pregnant.  Rachel went around the table eldest to youngest, asking each guest their preference.  </p>
<p>Ren’s response was “The baijiu of course, thank you dear.”  Sypat also requested the baiju, but thanked Rachel for being considerate of nondrinkers in allowing the choice.  That was a positive sign.  Any good impression she made was a fortunate one on this night.  Shiro and Daniel both selected the baijiu, and when Rachel finally came around to Lance, Shiro spoke up for him, “He’ll have the 7 UP.”  </p>
<p>Toasting at a banquet such as this was necessary, but toasting with alcohol was not.  Still, it would save face for Shiro to imply he was choosing for Lance as his alpha, rather than for the other guests to wonder why Lance was refusing what everyone else was drinking.  Rachel was, predictably, not surprised in the slightest.  Across the table, Daniel was clearly puzzled, so he must not know about the pregnancy yet.  Shiro might wind up having to tell him later, though he did wonder why Rachel hadn’t already done it.</p>
<p>As the hostess, Rachel was the one who was meant to toast first.  She took her place at the end of the table closest to the kitchen and stood holding up her cordial glass of baijiu in her right hand, with her currently ring-free left hand supporting the bottom.  “I would respectfully like to offer a toast to everyone present.  Thank you all for being here, and may you enjoy good health and long lives!  Ganbei!”</p>
<p>The others returned the toast and drank up.  When the toast was ganbei, that was not a mere suggestion to drain the glass.  Shiro was glad the cordial glasses only held a couple of ounces of liquid, because baijiu was a high-proof liquor that was always served neat.  Shiro tossed it back.  Fruit on the nose, grain on the tongue, fire in the belly with a funky aftertaste, it had a satisfying endorphin-releasing kick, but he was very glad he hadn’t allowed Lance to drink it.  </p>
<p>As both the elder and the guest of honor, it was Ren’s privilege to be served first.  Soon everyone had some food on their plates, in modest amounts, as there were more courses coming.  The object of a banquet was not to eat everything, but rather to enjoy everything.  Ren did seem to be enjoying her food, which made sense.  She had endorsed the restaurant who’d catered it.</p>
<p>Sweet and salty barbecued pork married beautifully with the sweet and savory flavor of the oyster sauce on the gai lan, as Shiro tasted first one, then the other.  The zesty flavors in the scallop dish added a nice complement.  The food overall was marvelously decadent.  It was so decadent that there could be a lot of salt, fat and nitrates in it, and Lance was eating it like he’d never seen food before.  Shiro glanced sideways again at his mate, who was looking back at him, lips shiny from the collagen in the food, and then Shiro experienced what could only be described as a mental swat through the bond.</p>
<p>“It must be difficult to refrain from indulgences when one is trying for a child.”  Sypat regarded them across the table with a knowing smile.</p>
<p>Shiro supposed he’d misinterpreted his interception of Lance’s drink as the action of a man hoping to create a child with his mate.  Avoiding alcohol and other items considered risky was a common practice among couples hoping to conceive, and a commonly known one as well.  This was better than if he’d guessed the truth of the matter.  Shiro would run with it, and maybe these people could unknowingly assist with Operation Parachute Stork by helping him keep Lance from hoovering up all the rich dishes on the table.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Shiro said.  “One would think it was most difficult for him, but I am finding it equally so for me.”</p>
<p>“Then another toast is in order,” Ren said, looking awfully cheered about it for someone not directly involved in it.  “To progeny!  May you create healthy offspring to carry your name.”</p>
<p>“Ganbei!”</p>
<p>Glasses were filled and raised.  The toast went up around the table, as well as a subtle shift in attitudes, as Ren looked more at ease, Daniel looked consternated, and Sypat merely shrugged.  Lance and Rachel traded a concerned glance that probably went under the radar for the guests who didn’t know them as well as Shiro did.  What had been said that could cause such reactions?</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t wish to be so unkind as to not to share the joy,” Lance said, and he used his chopsticks to transfer one of his scallops onto his sister’s plate.</p>
<p>Sharing in this way was an acceptable behavior at a banquet and even a time-honored way of both showing appreciation and getting rid of a less desired entree all in one go, and oh crap Shiro had forgotten about the whole clash of joy quandary.  Ren and Sypat must be assuming that Daniel would never consider asking for Rachel’s hand while her brother was trying to get pregnant, not counting on Shiro being brazen enough to have already impregnated him.  Shiro wanted to reassure Daniel that it wasn’t a problem, but the truth was that he hadn’t yet figured out a path around the issue of Lance not being able to carry betrothal gifts while carrying a child, so what would he even say?</p>
<p>“Thank you, Lance,” Rachel said, while smiling at Daniel in a way that seemed to offer the reassurance Shiro hadn’t been able to provide.  “Are you enjoying your food, hermanito?”</p>
<p>“Very much so,” Lance said.  “Thank you hermana.”</p>
<p>Shiro rushed to give his compliments as well; that it was to the hostess’s good taste rather than her cooking skills didn’t make the words less important to say or hear.  Ren and Sypat added their own, in a more unhurried fashion.  Shiro might have put his foot in it, but they’d gained some valuable intelligence in that Ren was still conflicted over the prospect of her grandson marrying a woman whose history must seem mysterious compared to other women he could have courted, and Sypat was still trying to make up his mind on how to advise her.  The first round of courses was consolidated onto one platter to make room for the second round of courses: crispy fried chicken artfully sliced and arranged on the serving plate, a tureen of slow-cooked soup, and a steamed whole snapper with the head pointing toward Ren as propriety demanded.  Rachel drizzled heated oil over the fish, making the ginger and scallions heaped on top of it sizzle.</p>
<p>Once again the guest of honor was given first crack at the dishes, and then the rest in order of age.  The skin of the fried chicken crackled on the tongue, the meat tender and slightly peppery.  It went well with the deep umami flavor of the soup, as well as the mild and fresh taste of the fish.  They spooned the light soy sauce from the sides of the dish as they took servings of fish, and when the top layer was gone, Rachel surprised them all by expertly deboning the fish without flipping it over, laying the backbone and ribs to the side so that they could continue to serve themselves fish with the communal chopsticks.</p>
<p>“That was very gracefully done, young lady.”  Sypat nodded at Rachel.  “You did not overturn the boat.”  He looked at Ren as he said that.  Could it be a sign that he approved?</p>
<p>“Thank you, Suk Suk.”  Rachel bowed her head graciously.</p>
<p>“My girl knows how to keep things on an even keel,” Daniel said proudly.</p>
<p>Shiro hoped he had never been that cheesy.  He felt a warm rush of amusement coming from his mate and looked over to see him grinning back cheekily.  Okay, so maybe he had been that cheesy before.  Vibiana Alvárez’s brood brought that out in a man, it would seem.</p>
<p>As with the first round of courses, round two was summarily redistributed to make room for round three.  Shiro felt a flutter of excitement from Lance and echoed it back to him.  This was meant to be the last round of courses before Daniel and Rachel made their big announcement.  Out came platters of beef chow fun and steamed custard buns, and a serving bowl of fried rice?  Shiro had been under the impression that banquets usually ended with either noodles or rice, not both at once.</p>
<p>“Esteemed guests.”  Rachel set the bowl on the lazy Susan with both hands and bowed head.  “Please allow me to humbly present the recipe for arroz frito passed down from my great-great-grandfather Luis Chang.  I hope it is not terrible.”</p>
<p>Shiro glanced around the table and saw faces ranging from surprised to flabbergasted, except for Lance who wasn’t surprised at all.  So that’s what those two had been up to the previous day.  When Lance had said they were ‘just hanging out’ Shiro had known that wasn’t the whole story, but he’d assumed they’d been conspiring on Rachel’s hair and makeup plans, not something like this.</p>
<p>“It has been some time since I last dined on Chino-Latino cuisine.”  Ren talked through her disconcertion to regain her poise.  “It is harder to find those restaurants in Manhattan as of late.”</p>
<p>“There are still a few left on the island,” Sypat said, having recovered faster.  “Lots more to be found in the outer boroughs these days.  I am excited to try your recipe young lady.  I hope you won’t mind if I do the honors.”</p>
<p>Ren had to be served before any of the rest of them could serve themselves.  Rachel gave her assent, and Sypat proceeded to serve the guest of honor.  Lance was giving off hungry vibes that told Shiro this dish was fondly familiar to him, and now he was curious too.  The arroz frito looked very similar to the house special fried rice served in many Stateside Chinese restaurants: same combination of scrambled eggs, diced meats, mixed vegetables and scallions, seasoned with soy sauce.  However, the rice appeared to be a tender medium grain rather than a firm long grain, the pork appeared to be grilled rather than barbecued, and Shiro thought he smelled more garlic and less pepper in the dish.</p>
<p>Soon everyone was served and sampling the beef chow fun and the arroz frito.  The beef chow fun had that luscious hint of char as proof that the chef who’d prepared it had known what they were doing.  It was delicious, but that had been expected.  The true revelation was Rachel’s arroz frito, as Shiro had been fully prepared to stand up for her, but it turned out her home cooking could stand up for itself.  The high aromatics beloved in Cuban cooking joined the salty-sweet flavors of wok fried rice in a harmonious composition that was appealing in its own right to both the gustatory and olfactory senses.</p>
<p>“You did well, young lady,” Sypat said to Rachel, then turned to Ren.  “She is a fine cook indeed.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Ren agreed, her facial expression having returned to a default state of serene grace.  “You said that this recipe is from your gou zu fou, dear?”</p>
<p>“My mother’s great grandfather,” Rachel clarified.  “My great grandmother made this often when I was a tiny girl, and then my grandmother made it often.”  Her eyes were lowered to her plate, her cheeks reddening like terra-cotta.  “They are not with us anymore.”</p>
<p>Shiro felt an empathetic ache from Lance which told him that what he was seeing on Rachel’s face was not embarrassment, but an attempt to hold back powerful nostalgia.  He felt a sympathetic pang of his own on her behalf.</p>
<p>“You seek to recognize your ancestors through remembrance,” Ren said, her even tone still not betraying the emotions behind her words.</p>
<p>“That was my intention, Ayí,” Rachel replied.</p>
<p>“Your intention is good,” Ren decided.  “As is your cooking.”</p>
<p>That statement was not an unequivocal ‘welcome to the family’ but neither was it a bad sign.  Ren trying to season Rachel’s dish would have been a bad sign.  Rachel gratefully accepted praise from around the table as they continued to enjoy dinner, eventually coming around to sampling the nai wong bao, steamed custard buns that reminded Shiro of the cream pan he’d loved as a child.  Dessert was not a common feature of banquets such as this, so the inclusion of the eggy custard sweet bread may have been primarily for the benefit of Lance and Shiro.  Rachel brought out more warmed towels and a plate of sliced oranges, not as a course but as a palate cleanser, and finally it was show time.</p>
<p>Daniel set up his Ultrabook on the dining room sideboard alongside Rachel’s 2-in-1, as Rachel refilled everyone’s cordial glasses.  Shiro discreetly looked around the table as they were doing this.  He knew the young couple hadn’t explicitly mentioned this would happen when they’d sent out invitations, but they also hadn’t tried to hide it either.  Word would have gotten back to Ren from curious family members and so she, and by extension Sypat, would know that something was afoot.  They might be assuming Daniel intended to ask permission to marry, rather than that he’d already gone ahead and done so.</p>
<p>On the other hand, it was also no secret that Daniel had a bold personality.  Ren would know this better than anyone, and might already suspect what was about to happen.  Shiro felt Lance’s anticipation through the bond, and a certain knowingness?  He glanced sideways at his mate again, and caught him glancing sideways at his sister.  Whatever caper those two had cooked up the previous day, it was still in play.</p>
<p>Daniel conferenced in family members in Chicago, San Francisco and Toronto via Skype, as Rachel did the same with her family in Miami and Marco in Los Angeles.  Many salutations of the day were offered and accepted as people on various lines introduced themselves to the others.  At one point Daniel had to rearrange the laptops to face each other so that the two families Skyping in could introduce themselves to each other.  Once the introductions were finally over, Daniel didn’t waste another second.  Gasps were heard across time zones as he whipped a velvet ring box out of his suit pocket.</p>
<p>“Most of you know that Rachel and I have been seeing each other for a year now,” he said, as he pulled her out of her chair.  “But what you might not know is that I’ve asked her to marry me– ”</p>
<p>His voice was immediately drowned out by a roar of mostly cheers, with a few exclamations of pure surprise.  Shiro noted that some of the elders in the Skype windows were not saying anything, but appeared to be looking toward Ren waiting to hear her reaction to this news.</p>
<p>“ –and she said yes,” Daniel finally continued, as he opened the box to reveal the cluster ring, which he took out and placed on the third finger of her left hand.</p>
<p>“A thousand times and for eternity, yes.”  Rachel glowed like sunrise as she stood with her hand still in Daniel’s.</p>
<p>Congratulations flowed forth through computer speakers, but the same elders remained silently waiting, and some of the younger generation had caught the hint and also tempered their responses.</p>
<p>“A family that lives in harmony will prosper in all things,” Sypat spoke up.  “I would propose a toast to a prosperous future ensured by the harmonious joining of your families.”</p>
<p><strong>“Ganbei!”  “¡Salud!”</strong>  The toasts went up not only around the table, but also from the Skype calls, where some of the callers already had their own drinks ready.  Ren was among those who joined the toast, though hers was a bit less clamorous than the rest.  Shiro had the impression that she did approve of Rachel in general, and Sypat’s vote of confidence was surely of help there, but would have preferred to have been given a greater role in his choices regardless.</p>
<p>But to know Daniel was to know that he tended to launch himself through life headfirst, and damn the consequences.  Rachel, having a cooler temperament and being more prone to thinking ahead, was a perfect match to moderate his headstrong decision-making style.  As she got to know her prospective daughter-in-law better, Shiro felt confident that Ren would realize this, as well as the fact that Rachel’s family valued intergenerational bonds as much as she could have wished.  Meanwhile, there was the saving of the wedding date and the planning of the betrothal day to get through without raising an alarm over a clash of joy.</p>
<p>“Fire Rat and Fire Ox,” Sypat said, after the hubbub died down again.  “A well-balanced pair, for whom a summer wedding would be well-aspected.”</p>
<p>A summer wedding was also well-aspected for when Rachel would be on summer break from Lang and Daniel would be freshly-graduated before starting his MBA at Baruch.  Getting married while they were both still pursuing degrees might be another reason Ren was taking a cautious attitude toward this announcement, and Shiro could understand that, knowing that he hadn’t been anywhere near being ready to get married when he’d been where Daniel was now.  However, Daniel wasn’t going into this with the same kind of emotional baggage Shiro had carried into young adulthood.  Besides, Shiro had learned well the lesson that true love didn’t always wait for a more convenient time or place.</p>
<p>“The twenty-fifth of July,” Sypat said, looking up from his almanac.  “This is an excellent date for the wedding.  There are not any better dates for this pair until over a year after it.”</p>
<p>“We’re saving that date!” Daniel decided at once.</p>
<p>Shiro felt a drop of sweat trickle between his shoulder blades.  The twenty-fifth of July was past Lance’s due date, but only just.  As in, just four days past his projected due date.  According to the phonebook-sized file Doctor Gorma had sent over, Lance could easily still be pregnant on that day.  At best he’d be home with a newborn.</p>
<p>At worst he’d be in active labor.</p>
<p>“You have auspicious times to choose from between seven in the morning and nine at night,” Sypat went on, scribbling times on a piece of paper.  “Look here.”  </p>
<p>He passed the paper over to Daniel.  Rachel read over Daniel’s shoulder.  </p>
<p>“Actually, they should avoid scheduling later than two in the afternoon if they choose that date,” Ren spoke up.  “Mass is held on Saturday evenings after confession.  If you wish to marry at the Church of the Transfiguration on that date, you will want to avoid conflicting with scheduled Mass.”</p>
<p>“We do,” Rachel said quickly.</p>
<p>“I can help you make arrangements with the deacon to participate in the marriage preparation program if you would like,” Ren said.</p>
<p>Rachel looked beseechingly up at Daniel.  “I would like that very much, Ayí,” she said.</p>
<p>“Then it will be done.”  Ren nodded benevolently, finally looking content with the proceedings.</p>
<p>“In that case, I recommend June the twenty-seventh for the betrothal,” Sypat said.  “You have two excellent windows of good fortune, one starting at nine in the morning and the other at three in the afternoon.”</p>
<p>“Daniel and I can deliver the bridal basket at nine in the morning on June twenty-seventh,” Ren said.</p>
<p><em>“Then Rachel and I will deliver the return gift at three in the afternoon of that same day,”</em> said Vibiana so quickly that there was no way she hadn’t been coached beforehand on when to respond and approximately what to say.</p>
<p><em>“You’re going to ride a thermal column all the way up there from Miami, Mamá?”</em> Luis asked jokingly.</p>
<p><em>“I’m not going to sprout wings out of my back,”</em> Vibiana said, and by the way the other people in the Skype window with her looked down and eased back out of her space, there was probably a sandal-removal happening out of frame.  Even Marco looked spooked and he wasn’t in the same Skype window or even the same state.  <em>“I am going to fly up on an airplane to be there for mi hija’s nuptials.”</em></p>
<p>Lance kicked Shiro under the table.</p>
<p>“Yes!” Shiro said, too loudly because he just got kicked in the damn ankle.  “She’ll fly up here in June and stay with us, for as long as she needs to.”</p>
<p>Lance’s warm hand squeezed his knee under the table.  He could feel the apology across the bond, but what he’d rather have was an explanation as to what exactly in the hell just happened.</p>
<p>He got the explanation in the limo on the ride home, after dates and initial travel itineraries had been sorted out to the best of anyone’s ability on a Friday night when most of the participants had been expecting to find themselves at an earlier point in the wedding planning process.  The Miami contingent would have to arrange blackout dates for Casa Bueno to ensure they’d have time enough to participate fully.  Shiro could have told them all to thank their lucky stars they weren’t trying to plan a wedding in two days, but that would not be helpful to the cause of winning Ren over.  Holding their prettily boxed leftovers balanced in his lap, Lance had filled Shiro in on the rest of the story.  He and Rachel had called their mother and forewarned her of everything, in order that they could secure her aid and ensure her presence for the betrothal.  With a little more luck, nobody would be worried anymore about a clash of joy by the time they found out Lance was expecting.</p>
<p>“I don’t like the thought of you not being able to attend your own sister’s wedding,” Shiro admitted.  “But there’s a selfish part of me who is very glad to know for sure that your mother will be in residence before your due date.”</p>
<p>“Querido, I don’t think that’s the selfish part of you talking,” Lance said with a fond smile.  “I want Rachel to be happy.  If I can’t be at the wedding in person, then I’ll be there in spirit.”</p>
<p>If Lance couldn’t be there in person, then Shiro didn’t want to be there without him.  Especially if he were to wind up in labor or overdue on the day.  If Lance was overdue, Shiro would insist on carrying his cell phone during the ceremony, and they’d better not expect him to respectfully turn it off either.  But if Lance was in labor then all bets were off as far as Shiro’s presence at the wedding was concerned.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>When Lance played Monsters &amp; Mana without his better half, he preferred to use his own office, but when Shiro was with him he liked to join him in his wood-paneled office on the fifth floor, with its leather chairs, giltwood mirrors, and the cherry tree’s top branches right outside the window.  Lance usually claimed the only cloth upholstered chair in the room, because it had a matching ottoman he could kick his feet up on.  Shiro always sat at his desk, elbows on the table, chin on his hands with an intense expression on his handsome face, because a Paladin’s duty was serious business.  Sometimes Lance liked to slink out of the cloth armchair and slide under the kneehole of that desk and give him some other business to think about.</p>
<p>Today was not going to be one of those days, however.  Lance was sure if he dared to get up off his tuffet he would discover an urgent desire to pee before he ever made it down on his knees.  He was an expert at making Pike sneak off so that his human player could also sneak off, but the party had just emerged from a cave into a forest with graphics that sparkled with every shade of green possible in the RGB color model.</p>
<p>“This is the prettiest forest we’ve been in yet,” he said wonderingly.  With the real world now a winter landscape dominated by greys and browns, he wasn’t in any kind of hurry to make Pike wander out of this facsimile of summer.</p>
<p><em>“Yeah.”</em>  Pidge sounded proud.  <em>“I gave it a few tweaks just for you guys.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Can you mod this game?”</em> asked Shay.</p>
<p><em>“Not officially,”</em> Pidge admitted.  <em>“Alright team, the ruins of Phanadu are in this forest somewhere, but so are hidden dangers.  Don’t be fooled by all the pretty digital foliage.  You need to get your bearings quickly so that you can find the ruins and collect the artefact.”</em></p>
<p>They were after a set of rings that could protect them from all methods of scrying.  As a Lore Master, Pidge hated letting them get their hands on truly powerful artefacts, preferring to goad them into increasing their skill levels to deal with powerful threats.  However, a coven of night hags had been following them around relentlessly lately, and Pidge was forced to concede that maybe she made those hags just a little too powerful for the party to handle at their present combined skill levels.  Now they desperately needed an equalizer or else they’d all be starting from scratch just like Shiro did every other week.</p>
<p>“Anybody got any ideas?”  The authority in Shiro’s tone was somewhat undermined by the cat in his lap peering curiously into his screen, but of course nobody else could see that.  That sight was for Lance’s affectionate eyes only.</p>
<p><em>“Hang on Hiroharu, I’ll ask this squirrel for directions.”</em>  Thunderstorm Darkness’s black ‘notice-me-not’ cloak smudged across the screen like shadows as Keith maneuvered his character over to a tree where, sure enough, there was a squirrel perched on a lower branch and chattering away.</p>
<p>“I keep forgetting you’re actually a faerie prince in disguise,” Lance said.</p>
<p><em>“Tell the entire enchanted forest, why don’t you,”</em> Keith grumped.</p>
<p>Thunderstorm walked the talk of the rogue archetype so convincingly that usually the only time anybody remembered he had a secret identity was when he had to roll to disarm a trap.  This tended to result in something so ridiculous happening that they got enough laugh mileage out of it to make it almost worth occasionally getting their characters’ buns roasted (sometimes literally).  But they also were reminded whenever he demonstrated one of his character’s more unique skills.  Like talking to woodland creatures, just as one example.</p>
<p><em>“Hey!”</em> Block said cheerfully.  <em>“What do you think about the name Haru?”</em></p>
<p>“I resent the insinuation that I will need a new character name before the end of this session,” Shiro said archly.</p>
<p><em>“That wasn’t– ”</em> Hunk was beside himself.  <em>“I didn’t mean– ”</em></p>
<p><em>“Blergh,”</em> said Thunderstorm suddenly, his character adopting the splayed stance that happened whenever a player let go of their gaming mouse or gamepad.</p>
<p><em>“Is that a phrase in squirrelish?”</em> Valyun asked.  <em>“I’ve never heard a squirrel make a noise like that before.”</em></p>
<p><em>“There are no playable squirrel languages in this game,”</em> Pidge said, <em>“otherwise anyone would be able to learn it and characters wouldn’t need a special power to talk to animals.  You can’t just go introducing animal vocabulary into gameplay, Thunderstorm, this is a fantasy game, not scifi.  Either you can talk to squirrels, or you can’t.”</em></p>
<p>Thunderstorm swayed gently beneath the tree as the squirrel continued making chattering squirrel noises above him.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Thunderstorm?”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“He’s just gonna talk to this squirrel in private while he takes a whizz,”</em> Hunk said, and then Thunderstorm Darkness disappeared behind the tree with an awkward gait that was probably the result of Hunk trying to use Keith’s game controller without dropping his own, but it sure did make it look like Thunderstorm had to pee real bad.</p>
<p><em>“He better tell us how it all comes out,”</em> Pidge quipped, as at the same time Kurojishi chirped, <em>“Oh, does he need my help?”</em></p>
<p>Thus followed a conversation informing Kuro of all the cognates of ‘wizard’ that were used as euphemisms for going to the bathroom.  Lance sat deep in thought as the rest of his party laughed and ribbed each other good-naturedly while waiting for Keith to return to the game.  The others didn’t seem to have picked up on it, but Lance knew exactly what that ‘blergh’ meant.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“You’re pregnant.”</p>
<p><em>“Should’ve guessed you’d figure it out first.”</em>  Keith sat back on his old daybed with his dog curled in his arms like a canine yoga practitioner.  <em>“You can’t tell anybody yet, though.”</em></p>
<p>“How far along are you?”  Lance was back in his own office.  Not much risk of Shiro overhearing anything Keith might not want anybody to know yet in here.</p>
<p><em>“Just over six weeks,”</em> Keith said.  <em>“I’m going for a pelvic and ultrasound next week.”</em>  </p>
<p>Keith made a wincey face, and Lance guessed he must be getting the kind of ultrasound with the wand up the duff.  Male omegas were often scheduled for an early pregnancy ultrasound as a matter of course, but Lance had already had a pelvic, and Doctor Gorma had been so pleased with his test results that he’d decided to hold off for the transabdominal ultrasound.</p>
<p>“Lucky you.”  Lance tried to sound chipper for his friend.  “I don’t get to see my pup’s picture until January.”</p>
<p><em>“Hm.”</em>  </p>
<p>Keith looked mildly placated.  Lance would take it.  “We’re real close together, aren’t we?”  Lance counted off weeks in his head.  “Gestation time, I mean.”</p>
<p>Keith grinned.  <em>“Yeah, I forgot to take my pill on my anniversary.  What a day that was.”</em>  He pulled another face.  <em>“It was just one pill!  I even doubled up the next day!”</em></p>
<p>Lance felt a quiver of sympathetic angst.  “Is it going to put you off schedule for your license?”</p>
<p><em>“No way.”</em>  Keith’s face was a picture of stone determination.  <em>“As long as I’m careful there’s no reason to ground me before I get my instrument rating.”</em></p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“What do you think about George?”  Hunk and Keith sat side by side in cushioned yellow chairs in the waiting room of Doctor Page’s practice.  “George means farmer.  Or we could use Georgina for a girl.”</p>
<p>“I like Georgina,” Keith said, although he still preferred the pup’s nickname of Sunny.  Also, George was what they called the autopilot in flight school.  “What about Oscar?  If we’re still trying to pacify the moms.  Oscar means deer.”</p>
<p>“I like Oscar,” Hunk agreed, then smiled sidelong at Keith.  “I still like Haru too.”</p>
<p>Keith laughed.  “If we’re defying the moms then we should just go full flower child and name this kid Sunny Day.”</p>
<p>Hunk laughed with him, then was interrupted by the OBGYN nurse calling their names.  Nurse Hardison Ware always wore a cap with his scrubs.  The one time Keith had asked him about it, he said it was because it saved him time whenever he had a patient due any day.  The guy must be in high demand, which stood to reason.  Nurse Ware was an omega, his summery freesia scent surely of greater comfort in the delivery room than the sharper scents of alphas or betas.</p>
<p>Ware led them to the examination room where he was going to be administering the pelvic exam and the ultrasound.  Since first becoming Doctor Page’s patient a year ago, it was even odds whether Keith would be seeing him or Nurse Ware on any given visit, but he’d been assured that both of them would be in attendance when it came time for him to deliver.  Ware gave Keith a cotton smock and a few minutes of privacy to change into it.  The nurse had stopped minding Hunk’s presence after it became abundantly clear that he was not going to have a disruptive effect on his patient.</p>
<p>Hunk helped Keith change and hop up on the exam table, and then Ware returned with a fresh pair of terrycloth stirrup socks and a weighted blanket for Keith, and they got on with it.  Ware was always quick and professional about the pelvic exam.  He used a redesigned silicone-covered speculum that looked like a space opera ray gun in its closed position, and it didn’t make any noise or feel cold or even too wide in its open position, but at the end of the day Keith would still rather be dealing with a diva’s over-complicated room service order at work than to be strapped into this apparatus, to be quite honest.</p>
<p>“Everything looks good,” Ware said.  “Your cervix is nice and blue.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have an infection, do I?”  Keith had been worried about that.  Things had been getting a little damp down there recently.</p>
<p>“No, that’s normal,” Ware assured him.  “It’s from increased blood flow to the area.  The discharge is normal too, it’s actually to protect your birth canal from infection.”  Ware withdrew the speculum and took some notes, and asked, “Are you ready to see your pup now?”</p>
<p>Keith clutched the blanket and looked up into Hunk’s eyes.  “Yes.”</p>
<p>The portable Doppler trolley was already in the room, so Ware rolled it closer and prepared the transducer.  “We might even get to hear the fetal heartbeat today,” he said, as he positioned the transducer, and Keith tried to hold still as he gently moved it around looking for the best image of his uterus.  Hunk put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, a steady warm weight.</p>
<p>The monitor on the trolley showed a field of shadows, eventually coalescing into an irregular circle of black in a sea of grey waves.  A loud whooshing sound came out of the speakers.  It sounded too loud and too slow to be the pulse of a small mammal.</p>
<p>“That’s my heartbeat, right?” Keith asked.</p>
<p>Ware smiled without looking away from the monitor.  “Yes, that’s right.  When we find the pup it should be easier to pick up the fetal heartbeat, which will be much faster... ah, here we are.  Do  you see it?”</p>
<p>Keith stared at the tiny curl of light in the cosmic black, Hunk leaning closer to get a better view.</p>
<p>“You’ve got one gestational sac with one embryo, and do you see that little flutter?”  Ware moved the transducer again.  “We should hear it right about... there we go.”</p>
<p>A fast sloshy sound began beating a rapid counterpoint to Keith’s slower steady whoosh whoosh.</p>
<p>“Sunny looks like a little bean sprout,” Hunk said softly.</p>
<p>Keith smiled.  “Hi Sunny.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>♬  “The bells will be ringing Saint John the Divine...”  ♬</p>
<p>Little known fact about Omnia: the woman could belt it out like her life depended on reaching that note and holding it as long as possible.  She’d had an appreciative audience every single time she took the mic, though whether that appreciation was returned was debatable.  Shiro had rented a private room at a karaoke bar for the office Christmas party, which was something he did every year, but this time the crew had grown large enough to require one of the bigger BYOB rooms.  They had two large monitors to display lyrics, three walls lined with benches, and numerous low tables to hold all their drinks and munchies.</p>
<p>They also had more couples present than in previous years.  Lance had not wanted to be left out of busting out his best “Santa Clause Got Stuck In My Chimney” just because he was pregnant.  He wasn’t even showing yet, and Shiro looked so cute with the fuzzy red stocking cap over his snowy hair.  Baujal the intern was there, and he’d brought along his fiancee Taujeer.  Rachel and Daniel were also in attendance, acting like an engaged couple at Christmastime with every silly romantic detail that entailed, including a duet of “Winter Wonderland” followed by an encore which the others indulgently let them get away with even though nobody had actually called for one.</p>
<p>Rachel had told Daniel what she and Lance had done to head off the clash of joy, and in gratitude Daniel had nominated himself the filler of Lance’s drink all night long, making sure he was always supplied with enough ginger ale to ensure that nobody even thought about offering him any of the eggnog.  It was nice of him, and also nice not to have to worry about finding a way to ditch an alcoholic beverage without anybody else noticing, and doubly nice that Shiro didn’t have to worry about it either and could just relax and enjoy himself.  Shiro had done a sweet and sentimental cover of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” which had Lance’s heart all aflutter, but then too many hot buttered rums in a row made his voice crack during the second verse of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” and by the time he got to “I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm” it was obvious that Shiro was extremely fortunate to have both a driver and a sober mate who could help him out to the car when the time came to go home.  Lance might have his hands full trying to keep Shiro from taking off any more of his clothes before they left, especially if he covered that last song again.</p>
<p>He was going to have to chance leaving him alone in the private room for a hot minute, because his bladder runneth over with ginger ale.  If he didn’t get to the bathroom soon, he might seriously pee himself.  Shiro reached out with both arms when he rose to leave.</p>
<p>“I have to pee,” Lance told him, then pointed at him.  “Don’t take off your clothes in here.”  Lance didn’t think their BYOB gratuity covered stripteases.</p>
<p>Shiro pouted.  Daniel and Rachel came over attached at the hip to reassure Lance that they’d make sure Shiro didn’t break any indecency laws while he was gone.</p>
<p>♬  “Can’t you stay a little while with me right here, ohhh...”  ♬</p>
<p>Omnia hit the glory note like it would save her life.  Lance vaguely remembered that she’d brought a date to the previous year’s Christmas party, but he honestly couldn’t remember the guy’s name, so distracted had his newlywed self been with the thought of getting Shiro home so he could unwrap the gift that kept on giving throughout the year.  This year, no date, and Omnia was the only one without a date this time, too.  Even the temps who’d paid a quick visit and left again had dates waiting for them in the bar.  Being surrounded by couples couldn’t possibly be fun for her, especially when one of those couples was at peak ‘I love you, no I love you more’ levels of schmoopiness.</p>
<p>Lance moved down the narrow hallway where the private rooms were sequestered and through the lounge area to get to the shorter hallway where the restrooms were located.  He walked head up, alert to his surroundings but not catching anyone’s eyes; the simplest way to walk through a bar while attracting as little attention to himself as humanly possible, because unlike Pike, he didn’t own an invisibility cloak.  A group of students – Mannes College of Music from the red and black logos on the sweatshirts –  were doing a rousing rendition of “Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want To Fight Tonight)” on the bar’s main stage.  All the tables in the lounge area were full, but the long bar was nearly empty, except for a couple of very busy bartenders, a cocktail waitress picking up an order, and one guy with his head down on the bar next to an empty glass with a ginger garnish poking up out of it.  There was something familiar about that blond mop of hair, but not so familiar that Lance was going to go over and bother the guy.</p>
<p>He took care of his business in the cramped omega restroom.  Thank the sweet baby Jesus he didn’t need to barf in there.  When he emerged from the restroom area into the lounge again, the guy at the bar had lifted his head and then Lance realized where he’d seen him before.</p>
<p>“Hey kid,” said Antor Antonov with a friendly smile.  “What’s the haps?”</p>
<p>It was impossible not to like a guy who’d once allowed a teenage omega girl to put his hair in ringlet curls without complaining about it.  Antor’s hair was back to its default state of stylish tousle, but his dreamboat face was looking slept on.  Lance hadn’t seen the beta since he’d graduated with Twyla’s class, but something must have gone awry for him since then.</p>
<p>“I’m here for my hubby’s office Christmas party.”  Lance offered a single hand clasp.  “What have you been up to?”</p>
<p>Antor was the sort of guy who never needed a huge opening to share stories about his life, so this simple question brought forth the deluge.  Antor had pulled overtime practicum hours to fast track his license exam and start working for his girlfriend in a salon she owned in SoHo.  Things were going swell, Antor was gaining a following and making great big commissions, and he felt like the time was right to ask his lady to marry him.  He got turned down, which, okay, he wasn’t an egotistical guy, maybe it was too soon.  But the next thing he knows his girlfriend wants to see other people, and oh, while they were on that subject, she’d like to see a different person taking Antor’s appointments as well.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry Antor, that sucks.”  No wonder he looked so blue.  But Antor was super-talented with a sparky personality, so he’d bounce back eventually.  Right now, all he probably needed was a little boost to the spirits...  “Say, do you want to come join our party?  We’ve got drinks and snacks, and a hot single lady you can flirt with.”</p>
<p>Antor pulled a few sober brain cells together to mull that one over.  “Is she nice?”</p>
<p>“Super nice, and she can sing too.”  And she had probably graduated from high school around the same time Antor finished kindergarten, but that might not be a deal-breaker for him.</p>
<p>Turned out it wasn’t.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>♬  Already in the oven nice and hot.  Oh damn!  Guess what I forgot?  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>Beverly Wilshire employees bopped to the Waitresses on the dance floor of the hotel’s upstairs ballroom, some of them in livery and others in holiday party clothes.  Hunk had to be flexible about which room to use for their annual party to celebrate the holiday season.  Christmas parties were a reliable source of revenue for the hotel, and plenty of years they’d been all booked up and had to squeeze everybody into the boardroom in shifts for their own party.  However, this year the hotel’s smaller ballroom had a last minute cancellation, so, having learned the hidden value of such a thing happening the previous year with the bigger ballroom, Hunk had jumped on the opportunity.  With the smaller ballroom they had enough space to comfortably entertain everybody who had the day off along with their plus ones, and rotate the on-shift people in and out in larger numbers than they would have been able to do otherwise.</p>
<p>It also helped a lot that Hunk knew a DJ who was willing to take on short notice reservations to help out family.  Hina had her new and improved rig up on stage, spinning holiday tunes and sending gobo light effect snowflakes twirling all over the room.  With balloons of red, gold, green, black, white, blue and silver crowding the ceiling, and the mistletoe garlands someone had festooned around the perimeter of the entire room, the venue had a festive ambience.  The festivities were enhanced even further by buffet tables filled with appetizers, like pigs in a blanket, crudités, cranberry meatballs, cheese logs and savory crackers.  There was one entire table taken up by nothing but Christmas cookies, and a fantastic chocolate yule log cake courtesy of none other than the Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters.</p>
<p>There was also a busy open bar.  Every year the management team debated not having a bar for the holiday party, and every year that debate eventually wound around to the realization that if they did that, then some of the employees would treat it like BYOB and make it even more rowdy than if they’d just served some light drinks.  There was an infamous precedent from the 2007 holiday party to back up that theory, and some of the managers had actually been at that party and remembered the incident well.  They had more control over what kind of alcohol was served if they were the ones serving the alcohol.  So they had three different kinds of eggnog (vegan, nonalcoholic, and traditional), spiced wine, hot mulled cider, and a bevy of soft drink options for the nondrinkers who didn’t want the nonalcoholic eggnog.</p>
<p>Hunk was drinking the nonalcoholic eggnog.  He liked eggnog, even loved it if there was a shot of brandy in it, but he didn’t feel it would be appropriate for him to get his buzz on when he was technically still on call.  Keith had been hitting the Red Pop, in between running out to the dance floor to rollick with his coworkers.  Now he was dancing back over to Hunk with a euphoric grin on his face as “Christmas Wrapping” began its long fade out.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  Merry Christmas, merry Christmas, couldn’t miss this one this year  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>“Hey,” Keith said as he came into Hunk’s arms, “guess what?”</p>
<p>“Chicken butt?”</p>
<p>Keith laughed.  “No, look up!”</p>
<p>He chucked a hand under Hunk’s chin in case he didn’t get the message.  He was standing under one of the garlands of mistletoe.</p>
<p>“Well how about that.”</p>
<p>Whoever had been responsible for the mistletoe hadn’t missed a single likely spot.  That meant it must have been Nadia.</p>
<p>“Mistletoe takes precedence over the employee handbook’s PDA policy,” Hunk said.  “It’s a universal law.”</p>
<p>Keith nodded.  “Mmm hmm, and after you kiss me, and you are gonna kiss me because those are the rules, you’re gonna dance with me.”</p>
<p>“Your holiday wish is granted.”</p>
<p>Hunk wrapped Keith up like a gift from heaven as the next song started.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need  ♬</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>♬  I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>Nyma sighed as she unfolded the sleeping bag in the supply closet.  Once it had been Rolo’s ‘bedroom’ and now that he had an efficiency in Oakwood, it was hers.  It wasn’t uncomfortable compared to having to climb over Zethrid and Ezor every morning before dawn, but at least when she’d had to listen to those two making out in the predawn hours, she knew she wasn’t alone.  Now she just had the company of the radio playing in Rolo’s office as she prepared to bed down for the night.</p>
<p>She’d spilled her guts to the feds in exchange for protection – if they should ultimately decide that she needed it.  That was the catch.  She hadn’t used her social security number or real last name in so long, they thought she might not actually need a new identity in order to disappear.  While they twiddled their thumbs waiting around to see if her information panned out enough to keep bothering with her, Nyma was working for Rolo as his receptionist.  Lorn had started going out with Mary Ann Caspian and it was looking like he wouldn’t need to work for Rolo much longer.</p>
<p>Mary Ann assumed it was perfectly plausible that Nyma would run to Rolo if she was dissatisfied with working for Macidus, and that Macidus would think so too and leave it at that.  Typical alpha, underestimating that asshole just because he was a beta.  As for Rolo, he had decided that Nyma could stay, but on a trial basis until he decided he could trust her again.  Nyma respected that assessment much more than Caspian’s.</p>
<p>Back in the reception area, the alarm twittered as someone tapped in the code to shut it off.  Rolo knew the code, of course, but what would he be doing back here after dark when he had a furnished pad with cable TV to go home to?  Nyma snatched up one of Ezor’s spike heels and carried it like a sai as she crept down the hall on bare feet.  Silently she padded forth, back against the wall, until she was ducking down to peek around the filing cabinet.</p>
<p>There stood Rolo, paused in the action of flicking on a light switch and looking back at her in bemusement.  “Sorry, I uh...”  He held up a bag of takeout in his other hand.  It gave off a strong scent of chilies and fish sauce.  “I got the combo special.”</p>
<p>Nyma thought about telling him she’d already eaten, even though what she’d eaten had been a tuna salad sandwich of questionable vintage from the convenience store on the corner, and that had been hours ago.  But if she did that, then he might leave.  She stood and had to brace herself against the spike of interest Rolo couldn’t quite bank before she picked up on it through the bond.  Nyma had shown up almost broke with no clothes except the ones on her back, so Rolo had let her have some of the clothes left behind by omegas who had gone on to bigger and better wardrobes.  Somebody with a lot bigger bazooms than Nyma’s had left behind a yellow nightgown cut low on the top and high on the bottom.</p>
<p>It was comfortable, okay?</p>
<p>“Ah...”  Rolo couldn’t seem to figure out how to close his mouth.</p>
<p>“I’ll get a robe,” Nyma said, turning on her heel, then turned around again and said, “Don’t you dare leave with that food.”</p>
<p>“Nope,” Rolo agreed, plopping his butt down on one of the waiting room chairs.</p>
<p>Nyma hid a smile as she headed back to the supply closet/bedsit.  She was pretty sure the same omega had left behind the robe, because it wasn’t much bigger than the nightgown.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>From the partially-enclosed car of the Ferris wheel, colloquially known as the ‘big wheel,’ the dreamy lights of the Christmas Market stretched out below them like a fantasy land.  Honerva was not affected by the sight, and she doubted her car partner was either.  She’d noticed the euros trading palms when they’d boarded, ensuring their privacy, and did spare a moment to wonder what the ride attendant thought they needed to be alone for, then decided she didn’t much care about that either.  If someone started spreading a rumor about her having an affair with this colleague, it could only serve to muddle the truth.  Honerva had gotten over the experience of personal embarrassment at the tender age of fourteen and hadn’t suffered a return of that emotion since.</p>
<p>Public embarrassment was an entirely different animal, creating inconveniences that were only worth tolerating when it served her ends.  “I should have made her get her tubes tied.  Your people still haven’t found her yet?”</p>
<p>“She doesn’t want to be found.”  Maahox lit up another one of those cigarettes out of a red and white pack that was clearly designed to resemble Marlboro Reds but lacked the font confirming that it actually was.  “Not by us.  Not by your husband either.”</p>
<p>“Ex-husband.”</p>
<p>“As you say.”  Maahox shrugged.  “She has gone to ground.  This is not the action of a woman who desires public recognition showered on her children.  If she does not want to be found, I see no reason to waste resources trying to flush her out like a pheasant.”</p>
<p>Was there crack in that illicit cigarette?  “Then Zarkon will find her before we do.”  It wouldn’t make any difference what Acxa wanted if Zarkon found her first.</p>
<p>“Maybe he will.”  Maahox grinned like the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.  “Maybe he won’t.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Living where they did, Narti and Acxa had the rare good fortune to be able to harvest their own silvertip fir tree to decorate the house.  The tiered branches were perfect for draping in paper chains, ornaments made out of pine cones, berry-laden boughs pruned from shrubs, and bird feathers they’d found and saved over the months they’d lived there.  They didn’t have string lights and couldn’t spare any of their candles for lighting their tree, but in the firelight from the wood stove, they both agreed that their tree’s silvery needles still looked mighty fine.</p>
<p>Besides, Kova liked to climb up in there and make herself at home, so it was just as well that there was no electricity involved.  It was bad enough that they had to keep picking feathers and pine cones up off the floor before the babies could crawl over and put them in their mouths.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance and Shiro had a problem with their Christmas tree, a problem that hadn’t existed during their first Christmas together.  As before, they had a tall and bushy Scots Pine set up in the rear parlor, wafting its woodsy aroma throughout the entire parlor floor.  They had an assortment of decorations and lights, most of which had been selected by Shiro and the Shinobus over previous years; neat things like small fans with pine forest scenes drawn on them, adorable porcelain animal ornaments, and strings of small paper lanterns.  Lance had grown up with the custom of waiting until Nochebuena to decorate the house, but he’d adapted to the longer holiday season, adding a few of his own ideas to the Shirogane family Christmas tree.  For example, he’d introduced the custom of draping candy canes over the branches, one for each member of the family, because he remembered how he and his siblings used to anticipate the moment they’d be allowed to eat those things on Navidad.</p>
<p>Lance had also added a lit star tree topper, and it was a fabulous star if he did say so himself.  Atlas agreed with him, and would try to scale the tree like Ethan Hunt up a skyscraper every time he had a few minutes alone with the decked out evergreen.  It was a good thing the tree was so big and sturdy, and the stand it was in had a wide steel plate on the base, otherwise Atlas would have surely tipped it over on his tireless quest to claim the shiny star for his own.  One time Lance had come into the room to find Atlas all the way up there curled around the star like a fleece muffler with eyes, trying to figure out how to get his precious off its firm perch above the highest bough.  The cat so far had not managed to unseat the star, but he did usually dislodge other ornaments on his trip up to the tippy top, so they’d acquired a bulky knit tree skirt to break their fall.</p>
<p>It seemed to Lance as if it were only a matter of time before one of the ornaments was broken, or possibly even Atlas himself.  Atlas obviously didn’t fear pain.  The siren allure of the golden star made him brave Scots Pine needles.  Pain?  Who is that?  This cat don’t know her.</p>
<p>Shiro speculated that Atlas would grow out of his fascination with the Christmas tree eventually, but allowed that they should still try to discourage him in the present, so they’d started testing out a couple of possible deterrents.  Shiro had begun burning citrus scented senko sticks near the tree, after hearing that cats didn’t care for the smell.  The incense smelled wonderful to Lance, not off-putting at all, but the lingering scent did seem to be reducing Atlas’s propensity to lounge around in the rear parlor.  Still, the scent always eventually dissipated, and Shiro couldn’t be home all the time to light a new stick of senko.  So Lance had gotten a bunch of jingle bell ornaments to drape all along the bottom branches of the tree.</p>
<p>He sat back on velvet sofa cushions, sipping a hot cocoa and feeling a sense of satisfaction about the brightly wrapped presents he’d just added to the growing collection under the tree.  The new jingle bells glinted merrily with reflected light.  The paper lanterns were now supplemented by strings of globe lights that had reminded Lance of his mother’s little pine tree when he’d seen them in the store.  Atlas crept over and batted at a jingle bell, which immediately did what Lance had gotten them to do: it made noise.  Atlas cocked his head to look at Lance over his shoulder, like, <em>you gonna try and stop me?</em></p>
<p>“Go ahead and jingle those bells, kitty,” Lance said, sipping his cocoa.  He didn’t actually want Atlas to be afraid of the bells.  If they worked as an alarm, fine, that was his original intention.  If they worked as a distraction, even better.  He just didn’t want Atlas to be motivated into figuring out how to knock the bells off the lower branches.</p>
<p><em>Jingle jingle jingle jingle</em>.  Atlas started a one cat band and was having himself a time.  He was still at it when Shiro joined them a few minutes later carrying the only thing that could have distracted him from his feline jam session.  Lance and Atlas both perked up immediately at the scent of fried chicken.</p>
<p>“Ohmaigah.”</p>
<p>Atlas miaowed in fortissimo.</p>
<p>“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”  Shiro grinned in spite of himself as he set the bag of KFC down on the coffee table and starting apportioning out the plunder.  “Atlas, get down.”</p>
<p>Atlas did his meow that sounded like he was saying ‘guau’ as he jumped back off the coffee table.  <em>How dare you</em>.  He stalked only to the other end of the coffee table, tail fluffed in outrage.  <em>Give me chicken at once and all will be forgiven.  I’ll wait right here</em>.</p>
<p>“Maybe we could give him a small piece of the chicken if we take it off the bone and remove the skin,” Lance said as he grabbed the box that smelled so delightfully of hot grease.  There was chicken in that thar box.</p>
<p>“Then we’ll waste the skin,” Shiro said.  With fried chicken, the skin was one of the best parts.</p>
<p>“No we won’t.”</p>
<p>Shiro graced Lance with an arch expression.  The insinuation that Lance would eat the extraneous skin was obvious.  Lance met his gaze unabashedly.  If Shiro hadn’t wanted Lance to crave the fried chicken enough to beg and badger, then he shouldn’t have brought it around him in the first place.</p>
<p>KFC was a popular Christmas dinner in Japan.  Shiro hadn’t retained his attachment to the custom, but Kai and Haruka had.  Except, most KFCs in the U.S. were closed on Christmas Day.  As for Christmas Eve, that was a major date night in Japan.  Like, Valentine’s Day level of major, not the sort of romantic holiday to be observed at the drive-thru.</p>
<p>The previous year, Kai had taken Haruka out for a pre-fixe holiday dinner at a fancy restaurant, which had been their go-to Christmas Eve date since they’d moved to New York.  This year, Haruka was making Kai a romantic dinner in the garden floor apartment because the presence of young babies was generally frowned upon in fancy restaurants, and Haruka was not ready to let anyone else besides Kai watch Midori for longer than a few minutes.  As they’d apparently done in previous years, they’d gotten their KFC fix on the 23rd in order to leave the 24th free for their date.  Shiro had taken Lance out to see NYCB’s performance of <em>The Nutcracker</em> on the 23rd of the previous year, so Lance hadn’t known of the KFC tradition until this year, when Kai had come home with a bucket of chicken and Shiro had called him into the kitchen to ask him a question before he could disappear through the apartment door.  Kai had innocently walked past Lance on the way into the kitchen, carrying that tempting fragrance which had called to him as seductively as the gold star tree topper called to Atlas.</p>
<p>For this Christmas Eve, Shiro had been planning to introduce Lance to a stop-motion film called <em>Nutcracker Fantasy</em> that his mother used to watch with him when he was a child.  Lance was certain he’d intended for their super casual Nochebuena dinner to consist of something a lot healthier than fast food, but once he smelled that fried deliciousness he knew that nothing else would satisfy his craving.  He’d whined to the point where he was sure that Shiro gave in out of pure embarrassment on Lance’s behalf.  Lance was fine with that as long as he got some fried chicken, only now Shiro thought to quibble on one little piece of fried chicken skin.  As if that was going to be the tipping point toward a gestational medical condition in a meal that included three starches (four if counting the chocolate cake).</p>
<p>“Fine, I’ll let Atlas have a piece of the chicken.”  Shiro peeled the skin off a drumstick with a serious expression like a doctor in the operating theater.  Or at least, like one on TV.  He carefully removed a large slice of meat from the bone and held it out for the eager cat.  Atlas pounced like a caracal on the savannah to snatch it out of Shiro’s hand.</p>
<p>Then Shiro shoved the entire chicken skin into his mouth and chewed determinedly.</p>
<p>“¡Oye!”</p>
<p><em>Chomp chomp</em>.  “I’m eating this to protect you from yourself.”  <em>Chomp chomp chomp</em>.</p>
<p>Then, because Shiro looked so silly up on his high horse with a mouth full of greasy chicken skin, Lance fell back on the couch laughing his ass off.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>♪ “Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright, the sun to shine by day and all the stars at night.”  ♪</p>
<p>Hunk sang and danced as he scouted their white fir tree for the best spot to place the new ornaments he and Keith had received as Secret Santa presents that year.  Keith watched him self-indulgently from the kitchen, where he’d stopped to enjoy the smells of tomato sauce and cheese coming out of the oven, and to help himself to one of the honey cookies his mother had brought over the day before.  Next to the oven, the commercial grade kitchen timer did its highly efficient duty of counting down the minutes until suppertime.  The white fir (which was really sort of bluish-green) was real, its citrusy balsam scent furling out a warm welcome every time Keith came through the front door.  The red poinsettia garland wrapped around the tree from top to bottom was not real, just in case of doggo curiosity.  </p>
<p>They’d taken the precaution of getting a stand with a fully-enclosed water reservoir so that Kosmo wouldn’t try to drink from it, but he remained drawn in by the bright decorations, to the point of overcoming his reticence against messing with plants inside the house.  After the third time that Kosmo had trotted over to drop an ornament at their feet hoping for a game of fetch, any spherical, bird-shaped or even remotely bone-shaped ornament had been removed from the tree and put back in storage.  They’d gone for a fruits and flowers themed tree this year instead – excluding spherical fruits by necessity, but it still looked great.</p>
<p>“Maybe you ought to put it up closer to the top,” Keith finally suggested after getting his fill of watching his husband shake his groove thang.  He pointed toward the branches closest to the pineapple finial tree topper.  Neither of their gift ornaments was shaped like a treat or a toy, but both of them were very shiny.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah.”  Hunk took notice of Kosmo lounging on his dog sofa pretending to be all chill, but his perked ears gave him away.  “You’re right, good call.  Did you get it?”</p>
<p>“Got it.”  Keith held up the object of his Christmas Eve errand: <em>Gremlins</em> on 4K Blu-Ray.</p>
<p>“Sweet!”  He swept Keith up in a little dance and a quick kiss on the lips.  “This is gonna be so much fun!”</p>
<p>After a very busy week, they were both looking forward to a relaxing Christmas Eve, kicking back with Hunk’s homemade pizza and some classic mayhem on the television.  The big family get-together with its attendant giant feast and endless name suggestions could wait for tomorrow.  Tonight, the best present was going to be each other’s company.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Kuro turned from trimming the pink artificial tree in his living room at the sound of the front door opening.  He greeted Nagato in the dining room, glad to see he had a red container with a picture of a white-bearded old man on it.</p>
<p>“They didn’t run out?  How wonderful!”</p>
<p>“I even got the biscuits,” the stocky beta said proudly.  “We’ll feast like the Emperor today!”</p>
<p>Kuro felt his face warming at the bodyguard’s rather immodest turn of phrase, but got over it as Nagato opened the KFC bag and proceeded to set out an impressive spread on the kotatsu table.  He’d gone out early and brought back fried chicken, shrimp gratin, cabbage salad, biscuits with honey maple sauce, a bottle of Chanmery, and most important of all, the cake.</p>
<p>“You got the tiramisu cake!”  Kuro bounced excitedly.  He knew it wasn’t like the tiramisu Pidge was probably eating across the ocean but it was the thought that counted.  He would be thinking of her while he ate the glossy-iced treat.</p>
<p>“I still wish we had a Christmas cake,” Nagato sighed.</p>
<p>Nagato would have never dared to be so forthcoming with his opinions if Tatsuo were there, but Tatsuo only rarely used the third bedroom reserved for him in the Tokyo apartment which had once belonged to Kuro’s father and now housed Kuro and one of his family’s bodyguards on rotating assignment.  The rotation was how they were able to get around the ordinance discouraging unmated omegas from living with non-relations outside of parental supervision.  Well, that and a few words in a few important ears.  It was amazing how far the Shirogane name could still go even with the current head of house a non-resident.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry Nagato-san, I picked up a Christmas cake on the way home from class,” Kuro said, directing Nagato’s attention to the pass-through window between the dining room and kitchen.  There on the ledge, still protected by the bakery’s clear plastic hood, sat the white-frosted strawberry cake Nagato had been craving.</p>
<p>“Kuro-san, you thought of everything!”  Nagato was overjoyed.  “Only now we have two cakes.”</p>
<p>Kuro did not feel this was any cause for dismay.  The day was still fairly young, and besides, “There is no such thing as too many cakes.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“We’re gonna crash on all that sugar.”  </p>
<p>Matt couldn’t believe he was the one pointing that out.  Usually it was Pidge who complained about all the rich food she had no intention of turning down.  It was like she expelled her guilt to make more room in her gut.  They were in the nursery, another one of Matt’s favorite rooms in the new house.  Painted seafoam green and smelling of baby powder, it was decorated in a motif of mythological figures depicted in a much more cuddly fashion than they’d probably ever been imagined by Homer.</p>
<p>“Tis the season to crash on sugar.”  Pidge carried on making funny faces at her squirming nephew while Matt changed his diaper with expert speed.  “Motherhood’s turning you into a worrywart.  Besides, we’ll have enough fruitcake to keep us all regular into next year if you’re that concerned about our digestive health.”</p>
<p>Matt snorted but didn’t deny she was right about that last part.  They’d had a store-bought panettone for breakfast, and for dessert they’d be having a rich rum fruitcake made from one of Ryan’s grandmother’s recipes.  That cookbook was proving itself to be an indispensable resource.  Then on Christmas Day they could expect their parents to bring over both a marzipan-covered fruitcake and a Christmas pudding.  People wondering who ate all those fruitcakes every year need only look to the Holts for an answer.</p>
<p>“So how come we need to add a tiramisu to dessert then?”  Matt did battle with tiny flailing limbs to snap Banon back into his onesie.  “It’s just you, me and Ryan tonight.”  And Banon, but he wasn’t old enough yet to gum any kind of cake.</p>
<p>“Because somewhere out there, Kuro is having tiramisu for dessert, and I want to have what he’s having.”</p>
<p>Ah, of course.  Young love, the reason for so many unfathomable things.  Romantic poetry.  Crickets singing at night.  Cakes brought over to a dinner that was already planned and prepared with no prior notice given to the cook.</p>
<p>“And besides,” Pidge continued as Matt lifted the baby off the changing table, “it goes better with cheese lasagna anyway.”</p>
<p>“Blasphemer.  Fruitcake goes with everything.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>♬  Lilies in the night, moon shadow  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>Lance lay across Shiro’s chest in a contented heap as the end credits played on the television screen.  The coffee table was a mess of mostly empty fast food cartons.  Atlas lay on the floor between the table and the TV belly up, limbs all higgledy-piggledy.  He’d managed to beg a few more pieces of chicken from the humans and now he was ready to join them in the sleep of the overstuffed.</p>
<p>Lance found enough energy to turn his head and look into Shiro’s eyes.  “We should clean this up before we go to bed.”</p>
<p>“Mmm hmm.”  Shiro blinked sleepily but made no move to get up.  “You know I’d do anything for you, right?  For you and whoever this one turns out to be.”  He slid a palm over Lance’s still-mostly-flat belly.</p>
<p>Lance suspected the slight plumpage happening right that moment was a food baby, and not his actual baby.</p>
<p>“I know you would,” he murmured, “and so would I.”</p>
<p>“That worries me,” Shiro admitted, and then Lance realized that this was more than just a nostalgia-induced bout of melancholia.</p>
<p>If the time should come when someone had to give all for their unborn pup, it was far more likely that Lance would be the one called upon to make that sacrifice than Shiro.  That possibility, and the simple fact that he couldn’t draft himself as a substitute player, must be driving Shiro quietly mad.</p>
<p>“I promise you that if something happens, I will do everything I can to stay with you,” Lance said, laying a palm along Shiro’s cheek.  “I won’t give up, not for a second.”</p>
<p>“I know you won’t honey.”  Shiro nuzzled his hand and tucked his face against Lance’s neck.  “That won’t stop me from wishing I could take your place.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Synthesized calliope music played through the sound system’s speakers as names scrolled in white against a black backdrop.  Gremlins snickered on the fade out as the movie’s release year finally appeared, reminding Hunk of something they might want to plan for.</p>
<p>“Hey babe, did you know Shiro’s got a leap year birthday coming up?”</p>
<p>Hunk got a soft snore in reply.  He peered down at his mate tucked up under his arm.  Keith was fast asleep.</p>
<p>“Guess we’re not watching part two tonight.”</p>
<p>Hunk knew Keith didn’t want to make a federal case of it, but he’d been taking more cat naps lately in an effort to keep his energy levels high enough to do all of the things he wanted to do.  He must not have been able to fit a nap into his busy Christmas Eve’s day.  Hunk turned off the home theater equipment, then set down the remote control to pick up his spouse.  Carefully, he gathered him up in a princess carry without waking him.  As he stepped around the couch he noticed Kosmo giving longing looks to the bits of crust that were all that remained of the homemade pizza.</p>
<p>The bite-sized crust pieces littered a plate on the coffee table, easy height for Kosmo to nab if he wanted to, but he was too well-behaved inside the house to just go for it.  Hunk and Keith had eaten all of the parts that had any garlic, onions or any other ingredients that might give Kosmo any trouble.  Their big supper might be another reason Keith was down for the count, come to think of it.  Anyway, all Hunk had intended to do was toss the leftover pieces into the compost bin.  As if intuiting the direction his thoughts were going, Kosmo gave Hunk the limpid eyes and a high little whine.</p>
<p>“It’s alright buddy, you can have it.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t as if Kosmo didn’t need to be fed after midnight.  With a grateful doggie smile, Kosmo nosed up to the coffee table.  Using more dexterity than Hunk would have imagined a dog could have, he cleaned that plate.  Things like that made Hunk wonder where Kosmo had been before he’d come to them, but the shelter had said he’d been brought in through an agreement with a local veterinarian, who’d only offered enough information to ensure he was a good candidate for adoption.  Some of his quirks seemed destined to remain a mystery.</p>
<p>Keith stirred as Hunk laid him down on top of the covers.  “Mmm, come to bed.”</p>
<p>“I will.”  Hunk rubbed his back.  “I’m just gonna throw the dishes in the sink.  I’ll only be a minute.”</p>
<p>“Okay.”  Keith’s sleepy eyes shone like starlight in the low light of the bedroom.  “I’m gonna be here.”  Then he conked right out again.</p>
<p>Hunk made sure he was comfortably tucked in before taking care of those dishes.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance woke to the mingling scents of coffee, bananas and cinnamon close by; he stretched luxuriantly before opening his eyes.  Cool morning light trickled in through the terrace windows.  He rolled over under the duvet to find Shiro fussing with a cherry wood butler tray.  On the dresser behind him sat a porcelain serving tray which appeared to be the source of the wonderful smells, judging by the steam rising up from it.  Shiro’s face was as intensely focused as a symphony conductor’s, but when Lance wished him a sleepy good morning he looked up with a soft smile.</p>
<p>“Merry Christmas honey.  I brought you breakfast in bed.”</p>
<p>Lance sat up, grinning in delight.  “That was thoughtful, thank you querido.”  He reached out for a good morning kiss and was sweetly obliged.</p>
<p>Shiro had brought up stacks of buckwheat banana pancakes with berries and maple syrup, a carafe of orange juice, and a little pitcher of warm milk so that he could turn his one cup of coffee into café con leche if he wanted to, all lovingly presented on china with holly leaves stenciled on the edges.  After only a little cajoling, Lance managed to convince Shiro to join him in polishing off the repast, as aside from the coffee there was plenty of everything.  Lance suspected Shiro already drank his fill downstairs while Lance was still asleep.  He might be prone to overprotectiveness that still managed to take Lance by surprise sometimes, but Shiro almost never ate anything in front of him that he expected Lance to avoid (except for all those buttered rums at the Christmas party and chipmunking that chicken skin, neither of which Shiro might ever live down).</p>
<p>He was the best husband Lance could have ever wished for in his wildest dreams.  He even got up and fixed Atlas a bowl of cat food after he tried to stick his face directly into the milk pitcher.  Who knew a cat’s head could fit in there?</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith and Hunk finished breakfast and took their hot cocoas into the living room to open one present each before getting ready to go over to Hunk’s parents’ house for a holiday dinner.  They were saving the rest of the unwrapping for after they got home.  For Kosmo, Hunk had gotten a bolster seat that could fit across the backseats of whichever of the two vehicles they might wind up taking on a trip, and they were planning to take it for its first test drive in Hunk’s SUV when they left the house.  No more hunkering in the cargo hatch or sitting up awkwardly clipped to a bucket seat for their fur kid.</p>
<p>Hunk had selected one of the smaller boxes Keith had put under the tree, and found inside a smart notebook which Keith had picked out so that Hunk could quickly and easily upload his ponders to the cloud whenever he had one of his brilliant ideas.  Keith selected a soft bag tied with ribbon, in which he found an MA-1 bomber jacket in red flight nylon with black at the cuffs, waistband and collar.  They traded cocoa kisses and held each other on the cuddle couch watching the twinkle lights on their tree, while on the floor in front of them Kosmo held his present from Keith upright between his front paws.  The clacky-slobbery sound of Kosmo’s teeth scraping the rawhide had a strangely comforting effect.  Hunk watched the dog with a funny smile on his face.</p>
<p>“What are you thinking about?” Keith asked.</p>
<p>“I was just thinking that this time next year we’ll have a crawler on our hands, and then I looked at Kosmo and realized we’ve already gotten a little practice in at baby-proofing things.”</p>
<p>Kosmo looked up at the sound of his name, saw that his humans were just being misty-eyed again, and went back to nibbling rawhide.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah.”  Keith laughed.  “We’re gonna be miles ahead of Lance and Shiro on the skill front.  Babies don’t use litter boxes.”  Then he realized what had just come out of his mouth and said, “Whoops.”</p>
<p>“They’re pregnant?”  Hunk jiggled Keith in his arms, his face and the bond sense both relaying that he was highly amused.  “Are they in the first trimester too?  What am I saying, of course they’d have to be.”</p>
<p>“Our due dates are within days of each other.”</p>
<p>Hunk laughed.  “Oh man, that explains everything about– what is Shiro’s name now in the game?”</p>
<p>Keith grinned.  “I think it’s Kanehiro.”</p>
<p>“Paladin Kanehiro, recent defender of Pike whether he’s in any actual danger or not.”  Hunk hummed.  “I wonder if there’s a way to make Pike pregnant in the game?”</p>
<p>They both roared with laughter.</p>
<p>“Damn, I wish we could.”  Keith wiped tears away from his eyes.  “But if we did that, then we’d have to tell Pidge, and they don’t want anybody to know until they’re into their second trimester.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Katie, honestly!” Colleen scolded.</p>
<p>Pidge cackled as Matt held up the tiny faux leather jacket for the whole family to see.  She’d ordered it from an Etsy seller who was able to screen print the baby’s initials and full last name on the back just as Keith had suggested it.  The family were gathered once again in the Kinkade family living room, which still featured the garage sale chic look, except for the verdant Monterey pine that Sam had brought down for them.  They’d spent the afternoon decorating it with green baubles, silvery garlands, and an angel tree topper that Colleen had commissioned from a folk artist, while the house gradually filled with the mouth-watering smell of the roast beef they were having for dinner.  The angel was supposed to look like Banon, and it kind of did, in the way that a Cabbage Patch doll kind of looked like a cabbage.</p>
<p>“He’s not going to be able to fit into it for months,” Colleen went on, “and then when it does fit, he’ll only be able to wear it for a short time.”</p>
<p>The seller hadn’t been able to supply a jacket smaller than 9M, which would have fit Banon in the middle of summer, so she'd gone with the 1T to make sure it at least fit him when it was cool enough out to wear it.  Pidge shrugged.  “When it fits him, he’ll be the coolest baby on the playground.”</p>
<p>“We could probably get it made into a larger patchwork jacket when he outgrows this one,” Matt suggested.  From the way he was smiling, it was obvious he liked it, which was good, because a gift for a baby was really a gift for the parents anyway, to Pidge’s way of thinking.</p>
<p>When Ryan thanked her too though, that was when Pidge had known for sure that she’d given a great gift.  Maybe even the best gift.</p>
<p>Not that it was like, a contest, or anything.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Herschel Y. Hale Garrett,” Alana said.  </p>
<p>She’d managed to corner Hunk in his old bedroom when he came out of the bathroom he used to share with his sister growing up.  He’d gone to that one because Gorou had used the one off the foyer earlier, and now nobody wanted to go in there.  </p>
<p>“It has a ring to it,” she went on, “like it could actually be somebody’s name.”</p>
<p>“That’s probably because it was Pappy’s name,” Hunk reminded her.  Most of it was Pappy’s name.  Obviously he wasn’t a Garrett.  “What’s the Y for?”</p>
<p>“Yorak,” Alana replied.  “It wouldn’t be fair to leave out Krolia’s wishes.  Only, Yorak shouldn’t be his first name because then all of the kids at school will make fun of him.”</p>
<p>“I guess that sounds reasonable,” Hunk said diplomatically, “except we still don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.”</p>
<p>Alana was not deterred.  “Just keep that name in mind in case it’s a boy.”  She patted his shoulder.  “I’ll get with Krolia and we’ll start brainstorming great names for a girl.”</p>
<p>Oh, why did he have to go and open his great big mouth.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Yorak Herschel Kogane Garrett.”</p>
<p>Krolia had met Keith coming in from turning Kosmo loose in the backyard with the kids.  Jin was also out there smoking a pork shoulder in banana leaves and blithely ignoring the attempts of some of the other men and alphas to give him advice on his barbecue techniques.  Keith had known better than to try to school another on his cooking prowess and shamelessly used his pregnancy as an excuse to go back inside.  Then Krolia plied him with diples, and he fell for it.  He followed her into the kitchen to help her move various Christmasy-shaped pastries into and out of the two ovens in Alana’s kitchen, and that’s when she started with the name game.</p>
<p>“That’s a long name for a little baby.”  Keith thought about taking the ‘trunk’ off the spanakopita Christmas tree.  It would still have the iconic shape without the trunk part, nobody would even notice.  “You didn’t give me that long of a name.”</p>
<p>“Only because your father got superstitious about it.  Go ahead and eat that sweetie, the feta is cooked so it’s fine.”</p>
<p>Keith eagerly chowed down on the warm piece of spanakopita.  “Anyway, what if we have a girl?”</p>
<p>Krolia looked up from plating pastries with a gasp.  “We could name her Yoba after Yaya!”</p>
<p>Oh boy.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro sat in seiza on a zabuton cushion with Kai and a few other hardy souls who’d braved December weather to attend meditation.  They had recited the nembutsu and begun to meditate as the incense burned down; incense which smelled quite a lot like Shiro’s own natural scent, actually.  He let his daily burdens go for that twenty minute span, allowing the knowledge that Lance, Haruka and little Midori waited at home for their return to float off into a corner of his mind that was not occupied by being present in the peaceful moment.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance was sharing a kitchen with Haruka, nobody had threatened bodily harm to anyone else, and she had even handed Midori off to him so that she could run down to the basement for a special tube pan she needed to make her Christmas cake.  It was a Christmas miracle.  Midori was soft and sweet-smelling, and very calm for a baby whose mother just rushed out of the room frazzled and going on about removable bottoms.  Lance bounced her in his arms and smelled her tuft of hair.  Haruka had put a pair of bitty bows in the tuft in an attempt to keep it under control, resulting in an effect that made it look like it was defying gravity.</p>
<p>Lance wondered if his own baby would have hair this fluffy.  Shiro had a thick floof of hair, and so did Kuro.  Lance’s own mother and sister had voluminous hair.  The genetic odds were kind of in favor of his pup having a floof of some sort.</p>
<p>“What do you think nena, will my baby turn out as cute as you?”</p>
<p>Midori smiled and made baby noises as she blew him a little spit bubble.</p>
<p>“You’re very kind to say so nena.”</p>
<p>She chuckled her cute little baby laugh as her mother rounded the stair landing down the hall and hustled back into the kitchen with a cake pan in her hand.  Haruka had already mixed her batter and meringue, and had been just about to fold them together when she’d realized she did not have the specific pan she wanted for this specific cake.  She looked relieved to see that nothing had fallen.  Not the meringue, nor the baby.</p>
<p>“Relax mamita, everything is okay here.  Me and Midori were fine for the second and a half you were gone.”</p>
<p>To his wondering eyes, Haruka’s shoulders did lose their tension.  “You may continue to hold her while I finish this cake and put it in the oven.”</p>
<p>It was such a very Haruka thing for her say, phrasing a favor done for her like she had been the one granting the favor.  Lance wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want to lose the baby-holding privileges.</p>
<p>“No problem.  My lechón is already in the Instant Pot.”  That was the course which took the longest to prepare.  The sides could be finished a lot faster, especially if Haruka helped him.</p>
<p>Which she wouldn’t be able to resist doing, because as much as she liked to claim she was keeping an eye on him, Lance now knew that she really just liked having some company.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Your hydrangeas are doing beautifully,” Sam said admiringly as he looked over the backyard.  Or at least what could be seen of it within the boundary of the porch lights.</p>
<p>Sam and Matt had taken their eggnogs out into the cool evening air and now sat on the back porch steps, while inside Pidge and Ryan were setting up the new gaming system and Colleen was getting her grandma fix while the getting was good.</p>
<p>“I owe a lot of that to you,” Matt said.  “You gave me a great start.”</p>
<p>They’d had to uproot the tardiva hydrangeas from the garden of their rental house, which they’d done to the best of their ability and transported them to this house.  Matt didn’t doubt that somehow, some way, some rhizome surely remained to resprout and surprise the new occupants of that house at some future date.  Meanwhile, the uprooted tardiva had recovered from being transplanted so well that even the wild violets taking over the rest of the backyard seemed to pose little threat to it.</p>
<p>“You took good care of what I gave you,” Sam replied with a smile.  “Were you planning on trying to save your rose bush?”  He nodded toward the fence line where a poor suffering shrub held its last stand against an onslaught of weeds.  “I could help you out, if you want.”</p>
<p>“I’d like that.”</p>
<p>Aside from the hydrangeas and a cherry tree, they hadn’t really had much of a chance to start the TLC their overgrown backyard needed before the baby rearranged all of their priorities.  Matt would welcome any help on that front that his dad had to give.  Sam being a botanist, that was bound to be plenty.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Papa, I need to talk to you.”</p>
<p>Hunk approached his father in the kitchen the minute he saw that he was finally alone. </p>
<p>“Son, I respect your culinary skills, but I know how to shred kalua pork.”  Jin stood at the island with a fork in each hand, taking apart the main course in a roasting pan.</p>
<p>“No, this about Mom.”  Hunk looked over his shoulder as if mentioning her could invoke her presence.  It was her kitchen after all.  “She’s getting out of control with the pup’s name, and now she and Krolia are tag teaming us trying to get both of the names they want on Sunny’s birth certificate.  You don’t even want to know what they’re suggesting as alternate girl names.”</p>
<p>“Well, have either of you guys picked out any names yet?”  Jin paused shredding to scrape clinging shreds of meat off one of the forks.  “If you already have your hearts set on one, you can just appeal to your mother’s sentimental side.”</p>
<p>It was true that Alana had a very sentimental side.  That was kind of the problem at present.</p>
<p>“We both still like Sunny,” Hunk admitted.</p>
<p>“That’s fine for aka-chan’s nickname, but you can’t use that on the birth certificate,” Jin replied.  “It’s bad luck.”</p>
<p>“I know that.”  Hunk sighed and leaned on the kitchen island.  “I guess we’re back to trying to find a name that means deer farmer.”</p>
<p>“Or you could just pick something out that you both really like, wait a little while after the baby is born, and then tell your mother that you and Keith saw it in a vision.”  Jin offered Hunk a wink and smile.  “That’s how your grandmother got your great-grandmother to give up on naming your mother Kakalina.”  He held up one fork like a pointer.  “But you didn’t hear that from me.  I’m not even supposed to know about it.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Atlas's litter box is based on a real one.  It's app cannot, to my knowledge, do some of the things I was making it do on Shiro's phone.  I just thought it would be fun if it could.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Month Three: Learning to Fly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dreams are had and dreams are pursued as a new year begins.  A few minor revelations come about, and Hunk has a birthday.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to everyone who is reading, and shout outs to PyroInfinite and luminiferousaether for your comments.  :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Shiro came home from closing out the fiscal year to the sight of Lance lugging a bucket on casters across the parlor floor, as Beethoven’s 9th thundered through the house.  Shiro and Kai had entered through the parlor floor door so that Shiro could make use of that doorway flanked by kadomatsu for the new year.  Kai and Haruka regularly used the other one on the garden floor, with their own kadomatsu welcoming in the helpful harvest kami.</p>
<p>Lance had actually done this cleaning routine the previous year too, but he hadn’t been pregnant the previous year.  He’d also been in a hurry to get it done because they’d been planning to meet his sister in Times Square before the ball dropped, but that was not a plan they were repeating tonight.  Maybe he could talk Lance down from whatever had provoked this frenzied level of activity.  It wasn’t as if they were going out this year, they had all the time in the world.  </p>
<p>Kai took a quick read of the unfolding situation, made an excuse that he had to go watch the baby for his wife and made a break for it.  Shiro watched him disappear rapidly down the stairs before approaching his own spouse.  Atlas, never a fan of getting his paws wet, was nowhere to be seen.</p>
<p>“Honey, why don’t you let someone else mop out the bad luck this year?”</p>
<p>Shiro had to walk right up to Lance to be heard.  That part actually wasn’t Lance’s fault.  The Daiku playing on the house intercom was one hundred percent Haruka’s doing.  Lance looked up with determination glinting in his eyes as he held the mop handle like a staff.</p>
<p>“All the soil has to be collected in this bucket, Shiro.  Every nook and cranny has to be mopped and it’s especially important this year, because in case you forgot, I’m going to be pregnant for over half of it.  Any bad energy collected throughout the last year will be thrown out with this dirty water, so I have to get all of it.”  He tapped Shiro’s chest with the end of the mop.  “You need a mobile alert just to remember to clean the litter boxes.”</p>
<p>That was... actually, that was fair.  But that still didn’t mean it had to be Lance doing it.  Shiro strode down the stairs to the garden floor and stalked into the kitchen, where he found Haruka frenetically cooking three days’ worth of food so that she wouldn’t have to risk bad luck by boiling or slicing anything in the first days of the new year.  She proved unsympathetic to Shiro’s cause, as his pleas fell on ears rendered nearly deaf from the volume of the classical music she was playing.</p>
<p>“Just because he’s not worried about throwing out his good kami with the bad, does not mean that I am willing to take that chance with my kami.”</p>
<p>“But Haruka, he’s pregnant!”</p>
<p>“Cleaning floors is good for his squatting muscles!” she said insistently without looking up from her cooking endeavors.</p>
<p>Sometimes all a man could do at such a time was to go upstairs and follow around his mate, pulling the bucket for him while he mopped.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>♬  If you didn’t come to party don’t bother knocking on my door  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>Keith danced in place at the butcher block counter in the kitchen, pulling noodles as long as he could make them stretch.  Kosmo sat at his feet, ready for action in case he should drop a noodle.  Keith turned his head to watch his husband dance past the kitchen pushing a steam mop and singing along, laughing when Hunk paused to do a funky move demonstrating how the lion in his pocket was ready to roar.</p>
<p>Somebody knocked on the door.  Kosmo boofed, toenails clacking on the floor as he trotted over to the foyer.</p>
<p>“Don’t wash your hands baby, I got it.”</p>
<p>Hunk stopped what he was doing so that Keith wouldn’t have to.  Keith smiled at the typical thoughtfulness, and then grinned when his mother joined him in the kitchen.  Krolia trilled and scented his jaw when she saw that his hands were busy making one of her recipes.  Keith purred and leaned into it.</p>
<p>“Is Gyrgan coming over?”</p>
<p>He wasn’t expected, but then neither had Krolia been, and Keith couldn’t imagine the judge not wanting to be wherever Krolia was for midnight on New Year’s Eve.  They’d been seeing each other, in the casual, low-key way that middle aged people who weren’t sure if they wanted to pick out curtains together made it a thing.  They didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t kind of a big deal. At least at certain important times of the year.</p>
<p>Krolia shook her head.  “He’s stuck in Philadelphia.  His flight was delayed.”</p>
<p>Gyrgan had flown out there because he’d been named in someone’s will.  Keith didn’t know a whole lot about that situation, but he was happy to have his mother’s company regardless, and he was sure Hunk was too.  They’d bowed out of countdown parties this year due to Keith’s increasing tendency to fall asleep wherever he was sitting, but it was still nice to have company on a holiday.  Three was enough to make it a party.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Maybe hiding out in Matt and Ryan’s powder room on New Year’s Eve wasn’t a cool guest thing to do, but Pidge had no better options after innocently opening that pic sent by Kuro.  She should have known he might try something with his typical creative flair after she’d told him about the tradition of wearing new red underwear to ensure good luck in the new year, but hot damn.  She had not expected to receive a pic of him wearing red fundoshi and nothing else on that dance-toned body.  With a caption about getting lucky, no less.  She texted him back swiftly.</p>
<p>
  <em>destroy the pic I hav saved mine &amp; will rember that img for alltime, then brace y’self</em>
</p>
<p>If a lingerie pic scandal had to happen, then Pidge would prefer it to be her picture circulating in cyberspace and not his.  She was rocking a Wonder Woman theme under her clothes.  The dyed cotton was new and had a lot of red incorporated in the design, so it was still lucky as hell.  She cast about the little mint green tiled bathroom for a place to pose that didn’t announce that it was a place for people to perform less sexy bodily functions.  She decided to drape herself across the front of a corner storage cabinet.  It had good light and no obvious ‘people do number two in here’ signifiers.</p>
<p>She posed and snapped, checked the pic and realized her glasses were still on, posed again with her glasses hooked over the hand in her hair, realized her glasses were still in the shot and sent it anyway before she lost her nerve.  She sat on the closed toilet lid and waited for a nerve-wracking five point three seconds before getting a long string of kiss, heart and peach emojis as her reply.</p>
<p><em>Knock knock</em>.  “Hey Pidge, did you fall in?”</p>
<p>Pidge would have told Matt that 80s teen comedies called and they wanted their joke back, but she was too distracted by a new string of blushing face and eggplant emojis.</p>
<p>“Pidge?”  <em>Knock knock knock</em>.</p>
<p>“Oh my god, will you please just let me put my clothes back on before you demand my immediate presence?”</p>
<p>There was a very long pause while that information was processed.</p>
<p>“Excuse me, what?!”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Keith I need ur help pls. Is emergenC.</em>
</p>
<p>Usually this kind of text came from Lance and could be interpreted as a non-emergency ‘emergency’ because if it was a real emergency Lance would have called; but this time it was from Matt.  Curious and slightly alarmed, Keith excused himself from the living room where they’d been watching a horror movie marathon of flicks set during New Year’s.  They were in the middle of <em>Terror Train</em>, which Keith liked, but he’d seen it a bunch of times before so he wouldn’t be missing any important plot points because he already knew whodunit.  He crept into the tiny laundry room and moved a laundry basket out of his way so that he could park his rear on the folding counter.</p>
<p>
  <em>whassup?  am here</em>
</p>
<p>Several seconds passed before Keith got a novel in reply.</p>
<p>
  <em>Omg I tink Pidge wuz master berating in my b/room I don’t know wut 2 do am so embrassed wut do I do</em>
</p>
<p>Seriously?  This was not even a Lance text level of emergency.  He texted, <em>congratulate her?</em>  He was missing one of Jamie Lee Curtis’s great scream queen roles for this.</p>
<p><em>Is my lil sister!</em>  Matt followed this up with a see-no-evil emoji.</p>
<p>Keith was still not impressed.  <em>shes old enuf to hav needs, bro</em></p>
<p>There was another brief pause, before: <em>Imagine if Lnce went in ur b/room and polish his nob</em></p>
<p>That exact scenario had happened before.  So many times.  Keith waited for Matt to elaborate.  He didn’t.  </p>
<p>Until finally: <em>Maybe its coz ur an only child.  Imagine ur mom.</em></p>
<p>Keith started imagining parts of his mom that he’d never ever wanted to imagine.  Parts that he’d come out of.  Did moms even do things like that in their kids’ bathrooms?  It didn’t bear dwelling on.  Now that he finally saw Matt’s point, he was on the hook for some grown up advice.</p>
<p>Keith thought maybe Matt called the wrong expert for this because he was an only child, but he wasn’t going to back down from the duty.  Matt called and he had answered that call.  Except, how were sibling disagreements usually handled?  The most recent one that he’d witnessed was an incident at Christmas dinner, when Lena and Manny argued over who got the bigger portion of haupia.  Hina had to break out a ruler to measure the desserts and prove that they each had the exact same proportions on their plates.</p>
<p>Hunk had laughed about it on the way home, telling Keith about similar squabbles between him and Hina when they were growing up and joking that half of parenting siblings must boil down to proving each of them had gotten the exact same thing as the other one.  Therein lied the solution to Matt’s little problem.</p>
<p>
  <em>tell pidge ever time she rubs 1 out in ur bath u get to rub 1 out in hers</em>
</p>
<p>Boom.  Text message emergency handled.  Keith felt so goddamn maternal, if he’d had a condenser mic he would have dropped it (there was a mic on his phone, but no way in hell was he dropping that).  A soundtrack of imaginary air horns accompanied his strut back to the living room.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Matt stared at the message wondering if he should have contacted the other sexpert he knew.  He’d decided against it in spite of their shared sibling experience because he knew Keith better, and besides which he felt kind of weird asking for sex-related advice from somebody with whom he shared substantial carnal knowledge of a specific individual.  Perhaps that assessment had been premature.</p>
<p>But no, now that he thought it over, this might work because Keith’s random factor superpower was at play here.  Pidge would be expecting anything but this.  It was nothing less than pure genius.  He checked Banon on the baby monitor, then chuckled like a mad scientist as he exited the office where he’d taken refuge to send his emergency text.</p>
<p>Matt glanced through the open door of the laundry room as he walked past it.  They hadn’t had a chance to upgrade the particle board cabinets yet, but their high efficiency washer and dryer fit in there just fine, and the ceramic tile floors could stay.  So could the smoking hot husband folding baby clothes, though Matt had been married to him long enough now to know that this level of commitment to laundry only came around once a year, like if Santa Claus really wanted to impress Mister Clean.  Every New Year’s Eve, Ryan turned into a laundry-washing machine, bent on ensuring that every thread of cloth they came into contact on a daily basis with was going to be freshly cleaned come New Year’s Day.  He would have even snatched Matt’s brand new red boxer shorts to wash, if he’d have let him.</p>
<p>He found Pidge exiting the powder room with her phone in her hand, mercifully fully-clothed.  She turned to him flushed with pique.</p>
<p>“Listen,” she said, “this wasn’t anything... I was just trying to get a mustard stain out of my bra.”</p>
<p>Matt was not going to comment on the ridiculousness of that excuse.  No, he was just going to lay down the law.  “If you do it in my bathroom, I get to do it in yours.”</p>
<p>Pidge looked positively poleaxed.  “Uhh....”</p>
<p>This was a sibling moment that might never be repeated in history.  Matt should cherish it for as long as possible.  “It’s only fair.”</p>
<p>“Um.”  Pidge’s face turned six different shades of pink</p>
<p>The moment stretched out to the point that Matt started to wonder if maybe he’d dropped the hammer a little too hard.  Maybe she really had just been pooping in there after all.  Banon’s blowouts had taught him that size was no predictor of volume or how messy it could be.</p>
<p>“Right.”  Pidge stood up as tall as she could.  “It’s fair.  Just remember I tried to do you the courtesy of not saying anything about it, so don’t you and Ryan go rubbing my nose in it when it’s your turn.”</p>
<p>Matt stared after her retreating back as she moved into the living room.  Rubbing his nose in it?  What did Ryan have to do with this?  He was still missing something here.  He might need to consult another sexpert for advice after all.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>its fine we aredy ate jus rember were 3 hrs ahed</em>
</p>
<p>Lance sent the text as he sat in his office, then waited for Matt’s reply.  Haruka had served them a hot bowl of soba noodles that had to be finished in one sitting for good luck, so it was a good thing Matt hadn’t texted him until after dinner, but now he had to keep an eye on the clock to make sure he threw out the mop water, ate the grapes and kissed Shiro on time.  Not necessarily in that order.</p>
<p>
  <em>Tysm for ur help. Its jus I thought I new wut she was doin n there but then she mention Ryan now im not so sure.</em>
</p>
<p>Lance had been intrigued by Matt’s problem.  Intrigued enough to retreat from the rear parlor where the others were watching a time delayed broadcast of a singing competition on the TV Japan channel.  He knew from shameless sibling shenanigans, and he knew just how far siblings could go in trying to make one another feel the burn of schadenfreude.  But throw the mention of a partner into the mix and this could only be the result of one thing.</p>
<p>
  <em>sound like sexting 2 me</em>
</p>
<p>He sat back and waited for Matt to finish clutching his pearls or whatever he was doing in reaction to that knowledge drop.</p>
<p>Finally: <em>I wish I cld unlearn wut I hav learned but ty for ur help and pls don’t tell Shiro.</em></p>
<p>Matt needn’t worry about that.  There was no way in hell Lance was filling Shiro in on the fact that his little brother’s long distance love affair was turning up that kind of heat.  Though maybe at some near point in the future he might want to talk to Kuro and make sure he understood safe sexting.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Many leagues away, Kuro slept under a black linen duvet after having stayed up to watch the first sunrise of the year.  On the second day of the year Haha would be visiting to give him New Year’s money and shop together for lucky bags, but for the first day of the year Kuro’s only planned outing was a shrine visit later in the afternoon, accompanied only by Nagato.  For now, he slept, and he dreamed.  In his dream, a peach tree fruited an eggplant, which was then borne away into the brightening sky by a beautiful fire bird.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Back in the townhouse, the television channel had been changed from Japanese pop singers swaying on a stage while triumphantly singing <em>Hotaru no Hikari</em> to visibly shivering American pop singers crowded around a television personality announcing that the countdown for the ball drop was about to begin.  The assembled starlets looked excited about it, possibly more excited at the prospect of getting out of the cold than of watching a giant disco ball descend on Times Square.  Shiro knew how they felt, and was glad to be in the comfy warm this time around.  They’d frozen their tits off while holding their bladders and braving pickpockets to go the year before, but he couldn’t regret it because Lance and Rachel had been so thrilled.  He just really hoped they both had ‘New Year’s in Times Square’ scratched off their bucket lists now.</p>
<p>The thirty second countdown began.  Haruka excused herself from the rear parlor to go and check on Midori, who had been set down to nap in her bassinet in the front parlor.  Kai had excused himself several minutes earlier and now Shiro could hear him in the hall opening the dumb waiter to collect their toasting drinks: warm low-alcoholic amakaze, and cold non-alcoholic sidra.  Where was Lance?  Shiro rose from the couch and took to the stairs.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ten!  Nine!  Eight!  Seven!”</em>
</p>
<p>Lance met Shiro on the stairs midflight, smiling and radiant.  Shiro was vaguely aware of Kai running into the front parlor followed by a startled sound from Haruka, the baby waking loudly and a subsequent scolding, Kai laughing through the whole thing.  All of that was background noise as he pulled Lance in for the first kiss of the brand new year.  His mouth tasted sweet and cool like fresh grapes.  Shiro held onto him longer than one kiss required, and Lance indulged him for far longer than he would have expected.</p>
<p>“I thought you’d be in a hurry to get your lucky tasks done at the stroke of midnight,” Shiro said when they finally broke for air.</p>
<p>“I didn’t want to miss this,” Lance said, and leaned in close for another kiss.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>“Six!  Five!  Four!”</em>
</p>
<p>“Got your crock?”  Matt was already running to the front door with his, skidding across hardwood floors in his stocking feet.</p>
<p>“Oh, I got mine, you just get the door.”  </p>
<p>Then Pidge actually pulled ahead of him, Bae Bae barking excitedly and bouncing around as their one dog cheerleader.  They threw open the door and took aim at the brick front walk.  Boy would that be fun to clean up later, but at least Matt was secure in the knowledge that the walkway was behind a metal picket fence.  No chance of litigious neighbors stepping on it unless they were willing to cop to trespassing.</p>
<p>Pidge’s tasteless coffee mug – a Secret Santa gift from a work colleague who thought she’d enjoy the sight of Santa’s plumber’s crack appearing whenever she put hot liquid into it – shattered into pieces on the bricks.  Matt was a nanosecond behind her.  He and Ryan had been gifted matching mugs shaped like toilets at Ryan’s going away party when he was reassigned.  Ryan kept his in his office just in case, so that he could pretend he drank out of it if the gift-giver ever dropped by.  Matt had known as soon as he’d seen it that his own mug was going to be used to break in the New Year.</p>
<p>He enjoyed dashing that miniature porcelain throne against his front walk, more than was probably kind.  Then he was being turned in a pair of strong arms and kissed breathless and he forgot all about the cups of kindness or being unkind to cups as he held on tight to Ryan’s shoulders.</p>
<p>“I’ll pop the Prosecco,” Pidge said, passing them on the front porch to go back inside the house.</p>
<p>Matt went on drinking his fill.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>“Three!  Two!  One!”</em>
</p>
<p>“Happy New Year!”  </p>
<p>Keith found himself being dipped into a warm smooch by a strong pair of arms as Krolia tootled on a party horn.  Hunk swung Keith back upright at just about the same time as some fool neighbor set off fireworks somewhere down the block.  Not even the kind with the ‘safe and sane’ labels were legal in Culver City, so it was bound to be a short celebration in order to avoid getting caught, but it was still annoying as the neighborhood dogs reacted en masse.  Kosmo yipped and bark-talked, running from one human to another.  Hunk was quick to switch the channel to DOGTV while Keith went looking for Kosmo’s hippo toy.</p>
<p>“You two will be wonderful parents,” Krolia remarked with a wistful smile once the short storm of chaos had calmed.</p>
<p>Keith didn’t know what to say to that.  He didn’t know if she could still have other kids, or even wanted to have other kids, or whether such a possibility had ever been discussed with Gyrgan, and he didn’t know if it was his place to ask.  So instead of saying or asking anything, he sat down beside her to share scent, which she accepted with an arm around his shoulders.</p>
<p>“Our kid will have the best grandmas ever.”  Hunk did have a gift for knowing the right thing to say.</p>
<p>Krolia smiled at Hunk as he sat down on her other side, and Keith reckoned that with the village they had to help out, at least their kid was going to be alright.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro once more knelt in the front room of the old building which the temple had refurbished to become their shoin.  He smiled at the fanciful art representing the Zodiac symbol of the new year, before turning the tablet over and uncapping the calligraphy pen.  He wanted to wish for the health and happiness of his family going forward; those who were near to him in space and time, and those who were distant.  How was he to phrase a wish that felt so big?  He decided that he would start with one symbol and build from there, until there was no more room on the tablet if that was what was needed.</p>
<p>Thinking of symbols made him remember his dream from the night before.  The first dream of the new year was supposed to be a prognostic one.  In Shiro’s, a jolly man smoking a kiseru pipe had wafted his smoke heavenwards with an oogi fan, the wisping smoke flying up into the sky where a hawk appeared in the company of a red-crowned crane.  Fans and hawks were lucky symbols, especially for the Shirogane family.  Then Shiro’s mind suddenly decided to free associate the lingering dream image of a crane’s neck extended in flight with a reminder that storks could fly and didn’t actually need parachutes.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Thank you for clearing your schedule to see me, Tatsuo-san.”</p>
<p>Tatsuo sat across from an old nemesis in a charming little establishment with scarred wooden tables and cloth banner menus.  He would have refused a meeting with this cretin if his son’s name had not been thrown at him like a challenge, they both knew it, and quite frankly the uninvited use of his own personal name was grating.  Therefore he felt justified in returning the favor.</p>
<p>“It was nothing, Dai-san.”</p>
<p>Dai Rin, or so he went by these days, tried to turn his grimace into a smile.  He had never been good at dissembling without the use of cosmetics to disguise himself with, it was amazing to Tatsuo that there were people who consistently believed his lies.  The izakaya where they were sharing a drink was one of the rare ones that allowed unescorted omegas to pay their own table charge.  Consequently, the place was packed with young alphas flirting shamelessly with every and any unescorted omega; even with Dai Rin and Tatsuo, who were older than most of them.  Some of these children probably went to school with Kuro-chan.</p>
<p>Dai Rin was dressed younger than his true age, in shades of purple from palest lavender to deepest plum all topped off with a violet leopard print overcoat.  He was certainly taking care of his skin, Tatsuo would give him that, but he knew Dai Rin’s true age because he’d once known this fellow omega by the artist name of Azusa.  Logistically, meeting with him was no trouble, as Tatsuo had inherited enough money from his late husband to ensure his comfort for the rest of his life.  Also, this place was not too far away from Kuro’s apartment, so it was no difficulty for Nagato to drive him over here and then have himself a drink in the beer garden, where he could easily see inside through the restaurant’s large picture windows.  Meanwhile back at the apartment, Kuro got to have a nice visit with Shinji without any competition for his attention.</p>
<p>However, tolerating Dai’s company was going to prove a trial.  Tatsuo wondered if he’d chosen to leave the okiya on his own, or if he’d finally managed to anger someone smarter, meaner or better connected than himself and suffered the same experience he’d imposed upon Tatsuo back when he’d been known as Izumo.  He rather hoped the latter, but he supposed it no longer mattered.  Tatsuo would have surely never had Kuro if he’d remained in the okiya.  To dwell on such a possibility for even a moment was more painful than reality.</p>
<p>“As you may already be aware, I am a manager for an idol brand, specializing in omega talent acquisitions,” Dai said, as if that had not been one of the first things he’d told Tatsuo when he’d called and asked for this meeting.  “We’re going to start recruiting for a new group soon.  I wish to invite your son to audition.”</p>
<p>Tatsuo kept his features smooth as his thoughts began to roil.  “Kuro-kun is still in the middle of his schooling.  Surely there will be other auditions when he is closer to attaining his specialist’s degree.”</p>
<p>“What would he need one for if he already has a place in a group?” Dai scoffed.</p>
<p>Suspicious.  “You say this as if he already has a place in this group.”  Tatsuo was well aware of the idol industry’s reputation for chewing up young talent and spitting them out when the flavor was gone.</p>
<p>“I’ve seen him in his school’s class videos,” Dai said, pausing to take a glug from his beer.  “He’s fire.”</p>
<p>Tatsuo had also seen the videos.  The choreographer for Kuro’s backup dance class usually placed him in his group’s back row, but even there he stood out like a swan among chickens.  If the comments on those videos were anything to judge by, then Tatsuo’s opinion was not just a mother’s bias.</p>
<p>“If he is as good as you say, then he will surely be in an even better position to audition for popular groups when he completes his training.”  Dai may have forgotten the value of public humility, but Tatsuo most certainly had not.  “Besides, you don’t even know if he can sing or not.”</p>
<p>“He can carry a tune,” Dai said.  “He sings sometimes for his Nichibu club.  Old-fashioned stuff, but we can work on modernizing his vocal embellishments.  That’s of secondary importance though, the boy is a perfect moé.”</p>
<p>Tatsuo fought an inner battle to maintain his calm reserve.  This man had heard Kuro singing during club activities where he had no business hanging around.  He was some kind of professional stalker!</p>
<p>“Anyway, none of the groups out there now are like the one we’re planning this time.”  Dai was still running his mouth.  “Not even any of the groups Dollhouse already manages will be like this one.  All boy and all girl mixed secondary gender groups remain popular, and single primary and secondary gender groups will always have their place in idol culture, but this will be the first ever all omega mixed primary gender group any idol company has ever attempted!  We’re going to call them Doll M8.  They’re going to change the whole game, and your son could be there from the beginning!”</p>
<p>Tatsuo downed his beer in one pull and flagged the waitress for another.  “Am I to assume that you wish for me to advise Kuro-kun of this invitation to audition, Dai-san?”</p>
<p>Kuro was a legal adult, but he was also an unmated omega, which meant that socially it was more proper to approach his parents than to go to him directly with a request such as this.  Nevertheless, Tatsuo felt certain that Dai would have gone straight to Kuro anyway if the boy wasn’t so attentively looked after by his bodyguards.</p>
<p>“Well of course,” said Dai.  “If you could also advise him to stay on the shelf, that would be ideal for his chances of becoming popular.”</p>
<p>“On the shelf?”  Tatsuo accepted the fresh beer from the waitress and immediately took a swallow.  “Do you mean like Christmas cake?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”  Dai had no shame, but had he ever?  Probably not.  “If he’s to become a successful idol, he must provide the illusion that he has never been touched and never will be.”</p>
<p>Tatsuo surmised that this idiot had lost before he’d even begun.  Unfortunately, that might not be enough to keep him at a safe distance from Kuro.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dining room of the manor house had been thoroughly cleaned to observe Holy Supper with members of the combined Manigford and Raible families.  A simple white tablecloth covered the trestle table, which had been dragged in from the kitchen.  Upholstered side chairs had been acquired thanks to the assistance of Lotor’s mother-in-law; enough to seat all the guests plus one extra as was traditional.  Lotor’s stepfather-in-law would not be in attendance, for he was on a movie set approximately twelve hundred klicks away, where Raiza and Leda would be joining him after the celebrations, which also happened to coincide with Saint’s own birthday.  For now, the two blondes sat at the table with Lotor, Saint, Honerva and Maahox, as Urinska reluctantly served and Herreh skulked about somewhere resenting his life.</p>
<p>Lotor still wasn’t sure if it was Maahox Urinska feared or Raiza – perhaps it was both of them – but he’d enjoy the fruits of that fear in her uncomplaining, if slow, attentiveness to the guests at the dinner table.  He enjoyed far less young Leda’s enthusiasm at being an aunt.  He was glad to have some family who appreciated the existence of his son, but the girl had clearly never been shown how to properly hold an infant.  Beside him, Saint was in a similar state of apprehension.  Lotor could feel it across the bond, even though Saint was capable of hiding such emotions behind a glass-like mask whenever he felt like it, reflecting back only what any onlooker expected to see in his lovely visage.</p>
<p>“Leda, be a dear and let me hold my grandson.”  Raiza was the proverbial iron hand in a velvet glove sort of omega.  Her words were always soft, but with something steely in the tone despite her pitch.  “Your great-grandfather has broken the bread while you were distracted and now it’s time for you to read the Nativity.”</p>
<p>“Yes mother.”</p>
<p>Leda handed Sincline over to his maternal grandmother, who did know how to properly hold an infant, and Lotor finally remembered how to breathe.  During this time the baby had not cried or fussed.  There was an old wives tale that said an unfussy baby was likely to become alpha, but Lotor wouldn’t set much store by that.  He’d heard stories that he himself had been a prodigal wailer.  He was determined that whatever Sincline would become, he’d receive the best that the world could provide, even if Lotor had to force destiny’s hand to acquire it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shiro and Kai bowed to each other across the tatami mat.  Sensei had tapped them both to demonstrate bunkai for their dojo’s Kagami Biraki ceremony.  Shiro was aware of Lance watching from the sidelines, along with other students both seated and standing in neat rows.  He pushed that knowledge to the back of his mind.  Though this demonstration was meant to analyze form rather than to truly incapacitate, Shiro still needed to stay in the moment and focus on Kai.  </p>
<p>They were evenly matched.  It was odd, really.  Kai had been studying for as many years as Shiro had, with more time available in his day to day life to practice.  Shiro remained shodan by choice, but Kai... could he be choosing not to outpace his boss?  It used to be a point of honor not to show up a respected leader in competition; a show of support and a demonstration of humility which was highly respected in its own right.</p>
<p>As he traded blocked blows with Kai, Shiro took note of the speed and power of the other man’s movements.  He could very easily embarrass Shiro by keeping him persistently on the defensive, but he was not doing that.  His spins were not just taking him out of range of Shiro’s punches.  They were giving Shiro a chance to regroup and go on the offensive in return.  Was it possible that by choosing not to advance beyond a certain point, Shiro had also made a choice that held back someone he regarded highly?  Someone who looked after his family?</p>
<p>Shiro thought that there was a simple enough way to test his theory, and that was to introduce Kai to the mats and see if he then felt free to do the same to his boss.  When Kai aimed a strike that could be blocked easily, Shiro chose to apply a takedown instead.  Kai rolled back to his feet and they circled one another like lions.  Then Kai darted in for a grab and Shiro blocked him with crossed arms.  Kai, clearly expecting this block, followed the movement around Shiro’s side and got a foot behind him to sweep, and Shiro went down.</p>
<p>Shiro rolled to his feet, his energy coming up with him, and he could see that Kai’s was too.  The spark of healthy competition flickered between them as they continued the demonstration, adjusting to each other’s interpretations of the kata.  On the sidelines, the other students watched them learn.  This was the first time Shiro had agreed to participate in a demonstration outside of class, but he was resolved now that it wouldn’t be the last.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Hunk woke to the delicious smells of breakfast cooking.  Keith did make breakfast sometimes, but the morning meal was usually Hunk’s domain, and neither of them minded his dominance of it.  Especially lately with Keith’s increasing tendency to feel tired and his unpredictable reactions to food.  So, what was the occasion?  Hunk rolled over and checked the date on the digital alarm clock.</p>
<p>Oh right, it was his birthday!  Feeling warm inside that Keith had remembered even when he himself had somehow managed to forget, Hunk jumped out of bed and found his house slippers.  He padded into the kitchen and feasted his eyes on his mate, who was busy at the stove stirring breakfast fried rice while Kosmo watched him with hopeful eyes.  Keith had on red and black soft shorts and his thermal knit T with the stretched out neckline that fell off one shoulder whenever he lifted an arm to reach for something.  Hunk stepped into the kitchen, making sure he made enough noise that Keith wouldn’t be startled by his presence.</p>
<p>Keith smiled and tipped his head back for a good morning kiss as Hunk slid up behind him.  “I was gonna bring it to you in bed.”</p>
<p>“We could still do that,” Hunk said, giving into the desire to smooth one palm over Keith’s stomach.  The curve on his lower belly was barely noticeable under the looser clothing Keith had taken to wearing; except to Hunk who saw Keith every day.  The scent rising up from the skillet carried a fondly familiar processed meatiness.  “Oh yum, you put Spam in the rice!”</p>
<p>“Course I did.”  Keith smiled.  “I know it’s one of your favorites.”</p>
<p>It was a favorite Hunk didn’t indulge himself very often anymore because he was trying to watch his cholesterol.  But hell, it was his birthday, and Keith made it for him, gotta carpe that diem.  They fed Kosmo, and then they took their bowls back to the bedroom with them and ate in the rumpled sheets like hedonists.</p>
<p>“Ohmahgah.”  Keith was carpeing the hell out of the fried rice.  “Spam is so good.  How did I not know how good this was?”</p>
<p>“Lovely wonderful Spam?”  Hunk laughed.  “People see the picture on the can and think they’re getting some kind of meat jell-O from a 1950s cookbook, but that’s not quite what it is.”</p>
<p>“What is it?” Keith asked around gobbles.</p>
<p>Hunk struck a poetic pose with his chopsticks.  “It’s like a hot dog and a potato chip french kissing in the ocean.”</p>
<p>Keith laughed around a mouthful of food and Hunk subsequently had to pound on his back to clear his airway.  Much as Hunk loved Spam, he hoped Keith’s craving for it was a passing thing.  It was hard enough to resist picking it up on grocery trips without a pregnant spouse putting it on the ‘honey do’ list.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Kuro-kun, if I may request a moment of your time please.”</p>
<p>Kuro paused in the hall to greet Ayako respectfully.  Nichibu Club had just let out and Nagato was surely waiting for him outside the building by now, but it would be unwise to refuse a polite request from the Coach of his backup dance course.  Ayako looked up and down the hallway, spotting the extravagantly dressed omega who always seemed to be lurking around there lately, and whom many of Kuro’s classmates speculated must be someone’s idol mom.  There were bets being taken as to which student was the hope of his loins; but whoever he was, Ayako did not look very pleased to see him.</p>
<p>“Let’s talk in here,” she said, letting them into one of the small control rooms that the school’s music students used for studio recording.  “If anyone needed this room at this hour they would already be using it.”</p>
<p>Ayako gestured to one of the rolling task chairs in front of the mixer, and took the other one as he sat.  Kuro waited expectantly, watching her for cues.  The Coach was a trim, graceful beta, enviably smart and self-controlled, with a shiny cap of black hair which tossed in a sprightly manner when she danced and which she probably never had to depouf before leaving the house.  Kuro was just one of many of her students, and not one of the most senior ones.  What could she want with him?</p>
<p>“Kuro-kun, I am happy with your work in my class, and it is because of this that I would like to put you on a different team.”  She smiled at him encouragingly.  “How would you like to begin working with Bunta-san and Emma-san on a new routine that I will choreograph specifically for the three of you?”</p>
<p>Kuro was momentarily speechless.  When she’d brought up putting him on a different team, he’d prepared himself to swallow the bitterness of failure.  He felt sure that he gave his best when sharing the back row with Mira, who was a very good dancer but very poor at keeping track of her teammates in the tight space of the camera’s frame.  However, his best might not be good enough, as dancing well and staying out of the way of her exuberant arm and leg extensions at the same time was very difficult.  To be offered a chance to dance with two students who consistently ranked among the top ten dancers in the entire school was not how he’d expected this conversation would go at all.</p>
<p>“You honor me with your words, Ayako-sensei.”  Kuro stood and bowed.</p>
<p>Ayako acknowledged the bow, still smiling.  “It is you who will honor me, if you only say yes Kuro-kun.”</p>
<p>“Then I say yes, Ayako-sensei.”</p>
<p>Kuro couldn’t wait to share this news with Pidge.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“You’re sure he doesn’t know?”  Alana fussed with the bunting around the table where she and Krolia had set up the strawberry shortcake and a stack of sugar cookies.  “It’s hard to believe we all waltzed in here and he didn’t notice.”</p>
<p>“I processed the reservation using an alias to make him think it was the Yelmor Group,” Nadia said, grinning.  “Trust me, he’ll have stayed as far away from that as he could get.  He won’t come up here until Keith calls him to come up here.”</p>
<p>Keith had heard lots of stories about this rather eccentric professional organization and their infamous meet and greets, but he’d yet to meet any of them himself.  It wasn’t just at the hotel that the Yelmor Group had a reputation, either.  Coran also told stories about them coming into his department and ululating for service for their omega members.  This group operated under the conviction that the nurturance of old school pack dynamics fostered closer business ties, so where one went, the rest went too, using vocalizations instead of words whenever possible.  Keith got the impression that Coran rather enjoyed their antics and he wondered how he and Lady Dayak were doing in– where were they now?  Was it Cartagena?</p>
<p>“Hey Keith?”  Hina pulled him out of his little reverie.  He seemed to be drifting off a lot lately.  “It’s time.”</p>
<p>“Right!”  Keith straightened his uniform.  When had it gotten so tight?  “I’m ready.”  He stepped out into the boardroom attached to the La Fiesta room to call Hunk.</p>
<p>The plan was so simple, Hunk would have surely seen right through it if not for the fact that he was prone to forgetting his own birthday (this had happened the previous year too) combined with his strong aversion to being around the Yelmor Group.  Keith was to call Hunk on the intercom phone with an excuse to the effect that the Yelmors were getting out of had and he and La Sai needed an authority figure to come deal with them.  Most of the hotel’s staff were in on the surprise.  They were counting on Keith’s presence being enough to overcome Hunk’s inclination to delegate anything to do with the Yelmor Group.</p>
<p>It worked like a charm.  Hunk came into the boardroom all stern-faced and very tall.  He had on the Brooks Brothers suit with the structured jacket today.  Keith’s inner omega purred.  He tried hard not to let his outer omega purr, or the scheme would be for naught.</p>
<p>“Where are the Yelmors?”  Hunk asked.</p>
<p>“They’re all in there.”  Keith pointed to the closed door into the La Fiesta room.</p>
<p>Sweet, trusting, and currently man on a mission Hunk strode right up to the door and opened it.</p>
<p>“Surprise!”</p>
<p>Everybody jumped up and down waving ‘happy birthday’ flags.  A few of them threw confetti, upon which  Krolia and Alana leaped into action forming a mom barrier to protect the food.  Nadia threw a wad of confetti like a softball and Hunk reflexively tried to catch it, but the clump dispersed midair so he only caught a few sprinkles.  He was floored.  Mission accomplished.</p>
<p>“You guys did this for me?”</p>
<p>“Duh.”  Keith felt free to lean on Hunk affectionately.  Nobody was going to say anything about fraternization in this crowd.</p>
<p>“Thank you.”  </p>
<p>Hunk’s pleasure beamed from him like sunlight, which the others basked in as the party got underway.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Tatsuo looked out on the lights of Shinji’s high-rise neighborhood in Shibuya-ku.  They were on the larger balcony of his condo, opening up a bag of take-away for a late night meal.  Kuro was back at the apartment asleep in bed after attending a late practice session for a new routine he was very excited about, but even if he weren’t he seemed to have just recently dedicated himself to a training diet and therefore would not have enjoyed the burgers and fries Shinji had ordered.  Tatsuo unwrapped the juicy slice of mango to place on his separately wrapped burger.  This food was a bit rich for his own usual diet, but it would be eaten in good company, which made it well worth any minor troubles of the body which might arise from it.</p>
<p>Shinji opened a bottle of beer with a quirky name on the label in romaji and poured them each a glass.  He lifted his glass, smiled at Tatsuo in that way that made his heart feel lighter in spite of the threat of Dai Rin weighing on his mind, and said, “Cheers.”</p>
<p>Tatsuo clinked glasses with him.  “Kampai.”</p>
<p>The beer was hops heavy with a hint of fruit, an appropriate accompaniment to the fruit-topped burgers.  Tatsuo would savor the night, as he would need to be returned to Kuro’s apartment before the morning.  Shinji’s night doorman probably didn’t care if he entertained a widowed omega in his condo until sunrise, but Tatsuo cared if any of Kuro’s neighbors were paying attention to his comings and goings.  He had plans to extend his visit until this matter with Dai Rin was at least brought to stalemate.  He hoped he could spend more time with Shinji, but the man traveled extensively in his line of work, and the two of them were not married.</p>
<p>“You look troubled, Tatsuo-san.”</p>
<p>Tatsuo sighed as he sliced his freshly-assembled burger into quarters.  Shinji always caught him out on moody thoughts with embarrassing ease.  “I am concerned for Kuro-kun,” he confessed.  “This idol opportunity seems too easy.  I don’t quite trust it.”</p>
<p>“I have not dealt with Dai Rin myself,” Shinji said, “but I have booked idol groups from the company he works for, on occasion.  Dollhouse does not spend as much on security for their events as I would prefer, so I only deal with them when the venue can make up the difference.  Truthfully, there is a chance that Kuro-san could leverage a stint with this group into a successful solo career, but there is also a chance that he would give up more than he gains from such an experience.”</p>
<p>“I doubt that Kuro-kun would give the offer any further consideration once he learned that he would have to renounce his courtship to do it.”  Tatsuo opened a packet of ketchup for his fries.  “However, that Dai Rin is a sneaky one who does not conduct himself with honor.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps I can be of assistance there,” Shinji said thoughtfully.  “As an industry insider and a member of Kuro-san’s family.”</p>
<p>“I would be in your debt,” Tatsuo said, even as he wondered, not for the first time, just how close of a family member Shinji was interested in becoming.</p>
<p>They had grown close enough that there would be no soon parting, Tatsuo felt secure in that.  However, marriage still had not been discussed, and Tatsuo was not sure what he would even say if an offer were put to him.  If Tatsuo agreed to move in with Shinji, he would have to shutter the villa which had been occupied by scions of the Shirogane family for generations, leaving it empty for an indeterminate period of time for the first time in almost a century.  Or worse: let it fall to the Shirogane cousin who had made no secret of the fact that she would have the old house razed so that she could put a brand new house that might only last thirty years in its place.</p>
<p>On the other hand, if Shinji moved in with Tatsuo, then he would have to give up his urban lifestyle which he clearly enjoyed very much.  He may also be obliged to give up his own name for the privilege of occupying the Shirogane estate.  It was a conundrum, but one which Tatsuo was content to put off for another day in the interests of looking out for Kuro, even as he sensed that it would not hold forever.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Hunk watched Keith slay a slab of Spam Musubi with a feeling of wonder at the sheer efficiency on display.  Even Kosmo couldn’t have made it disappear half that quickly or completely.  Keith licked the pad of his thumb and noticed his husband watching him.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Just feeling blessed,” Hunk said with an honest smile.</p>
<p>Hunk’s parents had decided they wanted to take him out for a birthday dinner, and in their enthusiastic way had invited pretty much everyone they could reach.  Of course not everyone was available on such short notice of a weekday, so their crew was relatively compact – for a Garrett party, for an anyone else party it was still big.  The café they chose was a local favorite that was usually so packed they’d discussed ordering to-go and taking it over to the house, but thanks to January rain showers on a Monday night, Hunk’s family lucked into having the covered patio seating to themselves.  The café’s manager brought out a heater to ensure they stayed comfortable out there.  Then the appetizers starting coming through the pickup window and everybody was happy.  </p>
<p>Especially Keith, who was in Spam heaven.  If the Spam craving continued at this pace, Hunk might have to resign himself to couvade syndrome.  A café server leaned out of the pickup window.</p>
<p>“I got four mixed plate specials, three combo plates, two junior plates, a chicken saimin and a Spam plate, and somebody put in for a king-sized fried rice?”</p>
<p>“That was me,” Jin confirmed.</p>
<p>“The rice will be up in a few, the rest is coming out.”</p>
<p>In the soundtrack of Hunk’s mind Vikings were singing, and it was glorious.  Then a Viking-sized man appeared in the opening to the covered patio and an already good night got even better.</p>
<p>“Hey!  Gyrgan!  Glad you could make it, man!”  He rose from his seat and stepped around the table so he could slap palms with one of his favorite cousins, and was vaguely aware of Krolia leaning around Keith to get a less obstructed view.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t want to miss out on celebrating your birthday.”  Gyrgan smiled in a way that looked frankly rather nervous.  “I hope you saved some kalbi for me.”</p>
<p>Behind Hunk, Jin bolted out of his chair to go to the window and place an order for the short ribs.</p>
<p>“You’re right on time,” Hunk said.  “Come on over, take a load off.”</p>
<p>“Thank you Hunk,” Gyrgan said, putting a hand on Hunk’s shoulder.  “Your generosity is sterling.  But first, I...”  He faltered, then stood up straight, firmed his shoulders, and stepped aside.  “I’d like you to meet my grandson, Tommy Hagel.”</p>
<p>Standing there was a kid with thick black hair, wary brown eyes and a jawline that was already shaping up to look like Garrett provenance, though the boy couldn’t be much older than Lena.  He smelled faintly and benignly like clover.  Unpresented, which at his age usually meant either alpha or omega.  Also, grandson?  Since when had Gyrgan even had a son or daughter to bequeath him a grandson?</p>
<p>“It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”  Hunk put out his hand.  “My name is Hunk, I’m your cousin.”</p>
<p>The kid looked like he’d rather be crawling into a creepy hole than hanging out with strangers who said they were related to him, but he shook hands and allowed himself to be introduced around to the others, including Krolia, who bore the revelation that her fella had a niblet with incredible grace.  Gyrgan regarded her with open apology on his broad face, and Krolia looked back at him with an expression that said he’d better be ready to relate the full explanation later (Hunk recognized that look because it was almost identical to when Keith used that expression).  The two of them were doing that silent communication thing that indicated a protobond might already be in place.  Interesting.   Young Tommy was given a seat across from Lena and Manny, where Lena’s ebullience and Manny’s habitual calm encouraged him to finally relax some of his guardedness.</p>
<p>Equilibrium returned as the food was passed out and conversations began anew.  Questions about and for Tommy were kept on a surface basis, as he was clearly still feeling prickly, enough so that Gyrgan was subconsciously putting out sharp protective pheromones.  Tommy turned out to be a whole year younger than Lena; just because he was a tall kid didn’t necessarily mean he was going to be alpha though, that could just be the Garrett genes coming to the fore.  He enjoyed hiking, rock climbing, and raising rabbits, all of which he’d done as part of his hometown’s 4-H club.  Gyrgan had signed the boy up for 4-H in Eagle Rock, which Tommy grudgingly admitted that he was looking forward to.</p>
<p>It became clear without Gyrgan having to spell it out that the child had been moved into his bachelor pad bungalow.  Tommy had just come from his first day of classes in his new school district, which might explain some of his mope.  Most kids didn’t like school, but especially not if they were the new kid.  Hunk wondered what else might be bothering the youngster like, dunno, how and why did Gyrgan wind up with custody of him?  Whatever the answer was to that question, it probably wasn’t wonderful.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Maahox sat across from his granddaughter in the luxury suite of an old chateau that had been renovated into a full-service hotel.  Roland was off overseeing a night shoot for his latest movie.  Leda was tucked into the four-poster in an adjacent bedroom, with the canopy closed for good measure.  Maybe she was sleeping, maybe she was up reading gothic novels pinched from her mother’s collection via flashlight, but she wasn’t going to be able to eavesdrop on their conversation, and that was the important thing.</p>
<p>Raiza took her cognac as Maahox did, over ice.  A woman after his own heart she was, no matter that she was omega.  She was family.</p>
<p>“So there’s another,” she sighed.</p>
<p>In point of fact, there were three others, not counting this newest find and the twins.  However, Zarkon was extremely unlikely to ever contact the mothers of those oldest three, for they were all humble of birth and had taken the hush money.  This latest discovery was blue-blooded, and unlike Acxa’s girls was not being raised in secrecy abetted by several law enforcement agencies.  When Zarkon found the toddler – and if he continued his obsessive search for the twins, he would surely stumble across her existence – he would be immediately diverted.  In this case that might not be an ideal outcome.</p>
<p>Zarkon was capable of creating such a degree of bother in pursuit of getting his way that there would be no chance of society or the law ignoring the actuality of Lotor’s by-blows any longer.  Lotor himself would probably not wish to invest any attention in this little girl, beyond the possibility of his father awarding her an inheritance which he felt rightfully belonged to his youngest son.  However, he remained angry enough at Acxa that if he ever learned of the twins, he might seek custody of them for the sole purpose of punishing his ex-wife.  Maahox knew his great-grandson very well, and he knew that Saint had no interest in becoming anyone’s evil stepmother.  Even though he’d be great at it.</p>
<p>“My informant advises me that the child’s mother has no interest in relinquishing custody, not even for the social boons legitimacy can offer,” he said.</p>
<p>“Zarkon doesn’t comprehend refusals,” was Raiza’s fretful reply.</p>
<p>“True,” Mahahox agreed.  “Zarkon can be shortsighted about some things.”</p>
<p>There would come a time soon when he needed to do something about that.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Sure, he’s had some love affairs.”  Hunk fluffed the pillows on the bed, careful to pitch his voice low so as not to wake the dog sleeping on his own bolstered bed nearby.  Kosmo had been a ball of anxious pupper after being left alone for a few extra hours because of surprise dinner plans, and the subsequent walks and games of catch and tug-of-war had finally tuckered him out.  Maybe they ought to get one of those devices so they could talk to Kosmo through the TV when they were going to be gone longer than expected.  “Lost his heart at eighteen and he’s been cautious with it ever since, but he never gave up completely.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”  Keith’s voice from the bathroom was full of sympathy.  “Did his first love die or move away, or something?”</p>
<p>“Or something.”  Hunk added a cotton throw blanket to their bedding.  It was starting to get cooler at night.  “She Dear Johned him after he got drafted to go to ‘Nam.  It was a tough blow.”</p>
<p>“Man, that’s rough.”</p>
<p>Hunk watered the indoor plants.  “Yeah, but it was a long time ago.  He’s much better now.”  He turned with the watering can in his hands and accidentally watered the floor.  “Holy cow.”</p>
<p>Keith stood smirking in the bathroom doorway, a vision in black.  Hunk recognized the chemise as something that Keith had brought to the house with him when he’d moved in, though he’d never actually seen Keith wear it.  The garment could be described as ‘filmy’ in both the drape and the diaphanous quality of the material.  Hunk could make out the subtle curve of Keith’s belly above his seamless briefs under the fabric, and it turned him on more than he would have thought possible.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna be doing much better in a second.”  Keith, clearly satisfied with Hunk’s reaction from the scent he was putting out, stalked forward to pluck the watering can out of his hands and set it aside.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to offer just because it’s my birthday.”  Hunk knew he sounded rumbly, but... damn.</p>
<p>Keith cocked his head to the side, the better to let his pheromones furl out.  He smelled mouthwateringly delicious, like German chocolate cake.  “Are you seriously gonna turn me down?”</p>
<p>“Hell no,” Hunk admitted.  He was a gentleman, not a dumbass.</p>
<p>Keith grinned and pounced.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Nyma glanced around warily as she carried her bag of greasy fast food under streetlights towards her room.  She’d been steadily working on proving her value to Rolo and through her efforts had managed to move up in the world, at least enough to afford weekly rent at a no-tell motel.  She’d always had a knack for noticing omegas with that special something, that ‘it’ factor; often picking up on the quality even before it had developed enough to start attracting horny alphas.  She didn’t know why, it wasn’t like she was attracted to omegas, but she’d figured she could surely parlay that odd quirk into some kind of living.  Originally she’d thought she could become successful as a madame, but it seemed the world was not yet ready for a super-talented female beta madame of an omega brothel.</p>
<p>No big.  Through her little unplanned internship in Macidus’s operation, she’d gotten a crash course watching his harem of escorts do their stuff and cultivated a sense for which alphas were competitive enough to demand an omega with that special something factor, and which ones just wanted a comfortable omega to rub their feet and bring them nummies.  Rolo had been smart to coast into business on the free advertising generated by the rumor mill, but then he’d started off running his meet and greets by just introducing random available people to each other and hoping for the best.  Thanks to Nyma’s special intuition, Rolo’s successful match rate went up twenty percent so he fronted her a bonus, enabling Nyma to move out of the supply closet.  Things were looking up.</p>
<p>Nyma let herself into her tacky little slice of polyester paradise and smelled cotton candy.  The maid must have showed up, even though Nyma had told the motel office she didn’t need the weekly service.  Oh well, she wasn’t too worried about it, everything she owned of any middling value she kept with her in a pouch she wore belted around her waist.  Would it have killed the maid to at least clean the fingerprints off the mirror on the opposite wall?  Then something in that reflection moved, and Nyma bolted toward the open bathroom door.</p>
<p>“Wait!”</p>
<p>Nyma turned in the bathroom doorway, ready to duck and cover.  If Ezor wasn’t so innately fidgety, Nyma would have missed her presence against the closed drapes, as she practically blended in standing over there.  Not so much because she was trying to blend in, as because the drapes were just as loud as Ezor’s usual fashion choices.</p>
<p>“I just want to talk.”  Ezor had her hands up and out at chest level.</p>
<p>Nyma wondered where Zethrid was hiding.  “You couldn’t have used a phone?”</p>
<p>“You would have hung up on me.”</p>
<p>She was right.  Also, she probably knew where Nyma worked, as she’d ditched her old burner phone and hadn’t replaced it yet, so the only place Ezor could have reasonably reached her was at the office.</p>
<p>“Okay.”  Nyma set the bag of food down on the dinky dinette table and folded her arms.  “Call Zethrid out here and let’s talk.”</p>
<p>“Zethrid’s not here.”  Ezor looked nervous.  “It’s just me.”</p>
<p>Nyma locked the door and checked behind the curtains, under the bed and in the bathroom.  When she came out of the bathroom, Ezor had slid into one of the two dinette chairs and was helping herself to Nyma’s french fries.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Ezor said while chewing on fries, “I left before dawn and walked over here, and then I had to cool my heels waiting for you to finally get off work.  I’m fucking starved.  Why don’t you keep any food around here?”</p>
<p>Nyma sat down across from Ezor and snatched her burger out of the bag before Ezor could take it too.  “Why didn’t you shake somebody down on your way over?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t want to chance Macidus being able to track me.”</p>
<p>In Ezor logic, that actually made sense.  “Why isn’t Zethrid with you?”  Nyma was still half-expecting her to suddenly jump through the wall like the Kool-Aid Man.</p>
<p>Ezor frowned around a french fry.  “She still thinks Macidus is where the money’s at.  Even if he’s making the money off our tails.  So I left to give her a chance to think that one over with a fresh perspective.”</p>
<p>That actually did sound like something that Ezor would do.  There was a reason why Zethrid and Ezor had gotten into the racket of stealing from johns instead of servicing them in the first place, and it hadn’t been Zethrid’s idea, either.  Once upon a time, Zethrid had been Ezor’s pimp, not her partner.  So maybe she really was here to put pressure on Zethrid to leave Macidus’s circle of influence before it was too late to escape with any hope of safety.  Zethrid had already proven to be malleable to the tactic of Ezor withholding sex.</p>
<p>On the other hand, maybe she was still working for Macidus and playing a long game.  Ezor could be clever like a snake in the grass: easily underestimated, aware of that perception people had of her, and perfectly willing to exploit it to achieve a goal.  Pride had always been a luxury Ezor could drop at a whim.</p>
<p>“What do you want from me, Ezor?”</p>
<p>“I need a place to crash and a way to earn some scratch.”</p>
<p>Ezor’s snake in the grass qualities made her useful for spying, which Nyma didn’t need at the moment, but she also made a pretty decent bodyguard, which could come in handy for some of Rolo’s clients.  They’d been losing potential alpha clients who spooked when they discovered that the omegas didn’t have regular chaperones.  Not a lot of clients, but enough to make it a problem worth solving.  With a full-time bodyguard on hand, that didn’t need to be a problem at all.  But then she’d have to tolerate Ezor kicking in her sleep and stealing food.</p>
<p>“What’s in it for me?”</p>
<p>“I can give you an in with some of the hottest omegas in tinsel town.”  Ezor grinned around a french fry like an old movie moll with a cigarette.</p>
<p>“You mean those escorts Macidus hires out as party favors?”  No question they were hot, but matchmaking material they were probably not, unless the alpha in question was way older and richer than the ones who hired Rolo and Nyma to make them a match.  “We’re in the business of helping people find true love or whatever, not helping them see god.”  She waved her half-eaten hamburger to illustrate her point.  “Anyway, I’m not interested in poaching on Macidus’s territory.”</p>
<p>“He already thinks you are.”  Ezor looked miffed that her brilliant idea had been shot down.</p>
<p>“What?  We’re nowhere near his turf!”  Figuratively more than literally, but that too.  “We only deal with the marrying kind!”</p>
<p>“Macidus thinks they’re all the cheating kind.”  Ezor scowled.  “You know he’s been after Zethrid to start hosting at Honey Moons?”</p>
<p>Honey Moons was a swinger’s club, one of Macidus’s legal businesses that operated as a front for many of his less legal ventures.  If Zethrid started hosting there she’d be expected to participate.  No wonder Ezor was pissed off enough to take a hike.</p>
<p>“A poacher always thinks everybody else is poaching too,” Nyma said.  She wasn’t about to let that spooky-ass lunatic Macidus poach her barely-won fresh start right out from under her.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance’s ultrasound appointment was in a radiology suite on the bottom floor of the same building Doctor Gorma’s offices were located in.  In an emergency he supposed they could just send someone running up the stairs to deliver his images to his doctor if they had to, like if he had an alien foothold situation in his uterus instead of a baby.  Or they could call and have Doctor Gorma or Nurse Anga come running down the stairs with elephant tranquilizers.  Okay, so Lance was a little nervous, a perfect recipe for his imagination running wild.  Watching his insides on candid camera was always a weird experience for him, only this time Shiro was going to be watching too.</p>
<p>Shiro, seated next to him in the tweediest bucket chairs ever designed (like seriously, what the hell was going on with PoMo furniture trends?) squeezed his hand.  “Are you doing okay honey?”</p>
<p>“I have to pee.”</p>
<p>“Not yet sugar.”  That was one of the nurses behind the reception desk, a long screened counter framed by more ferns than a TGI Friday’s.  “We need your bladder full so we can get a good picture.  Just hang in there.”</p>
<p>Lance gave her the thumbs up with his free hand and tried to smile at Shiro.  The pressure on his bladder was uncomfortable.  Fortunately for the tweed upholstery, he didn’t have to wait much longer before a nurse was leading him and Shiro down a hallway into a room with an adjustable exam table and ultrasound scanner in it.  The clinical austerity in the exam room was a relief after the oddball urbanity of the lobby.  Shiro and Lance were invited to make themselves comfy, and informed that the sonographer would be with them shortly.</p>
<p>Lance had been advised to wear loose clothes, so he was wearing one of Shiro’s grey sweat suits, which seemed to please the alpha greatly.  Lance liked the fleece hoodie, which he could retreat into like a turtle if he really felt like it.  He was less enamored with the pants, which were too long on him and had to be rolled at the cuff.  Rolled cuffs weren’t a look he liked on himself.  They called too much attention to his big ol’ feet.</p>
<p>The sonographer arrived.  She was a middle-aged beta with an agreeable scent of wood shavings.  Tall and lean with short curly hair, there was something familiar about the gracile set of her features.  It wasn’t until she introduced herself as Ritsuko Jin that Lance put his finger on why, then Shiro confirmed it when he told her they knew her brother.  Ritsuko was Sensei Tetsuya’s older sister.  Shiro, being the research king he was, had probably already been aware of that before they checked in for their appointment.</p>
<p>Ritsuko had Lance lie back on the exam table and then she adjusted it so that he was reclined at a comfortable slant.  Explaining as she went to the omega and his antsy alpha, Ritsuko draped a paper blanket over Lance’s sweatpants and raised the hoodie up above his belly, which was beginning to show a slight curve that was still easily hidden under clothes.  She told him the gel would be room temperature but that it would feel cold at first, and she was not kidding.  Then she started to move the transducer around through the gel, and the grayscale trapezoidal shape on the monitor revealed a blobby black space in the middle, much less grotesque than what Lance was used to seeing on a monitor whenever an obstetrics professional looked at any of his baby-making bits.  Dancing in the dark was the figure they were all there to see.</p>
<p>“Is that the pup?” Shiro asked excitedly.</p>
<p>“They look so big!”  Lance felt his chest swell.  His eyes were glued to the little shadow boxer on the screen.</p>
<p>“That is the pup,” Ritsuko confirmed with a smile as she began recording measurements.  “It looks big because the image we are looking at is enlarged, but in fact it is only 4.3 centimeters from crown to rump, which is why you are not feeling all of this movement.”</p>
<p>On the screen, the pup, who was mostly head and trunk, waved its short spindly arms and legs with great verve</p>
<p>“Looks like he takes after his mom,” Shiro said.</p>
<p>“He might be a she,” Lance pointed out.</p>
<p>“Your fetus is still a bit young yet for detecting primary gender,” Ritsuko said, “but we will be able to confirm the heartbeat.”  She moved the transducer around again, and a graph popped up showing the peaks and valleys to go along with the rapid ‘wop wop wop’ that started coming out of the Doppler speakers.</p>
<p>Lance clutched Shiro’s hand as they both stared rapt at the monitor.  Their pup was no longer an abstraction to plan around and for, but a reality who they could see and hear.  Would they have Shiro’s debonair smile, or Lance’s flexibility?  Shiro’s musical talent, or Lance’s knack for picking up languages?  Maybe they’d have some quality from one of their grandparents, something that had skipped a generation.</p>
<p>“I can’t wait to hold her.”</p>
<p>“She might be a him,” Shiro said as he kissed Lance on the side of his head.</p>
<p>Whatever they would be, they’d be loved.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“This one has a proof setting.”  Alana spoke out of the side her mouth to Hunk.  She was trying not to clue in the appliance store sales associate hovering nearby that she was zeroing in on a particular oven.</p>
<p>Hunk looked over her choice while pretending to study the microwave displayed above it.  They didn’t actually need a microwave, the moms had already decided to keep the one mounted under the cabinets for the time being.  If Alana got this professional series double wall convection oven they’d have to rip out another section of the cabinets to make room for it, but she’d also be able to get a bottom-freezer refrigerator and a high-temp dishwasher from the same manufacturer at a bundle discount.  They’d moved forward with closing on the mixed-zone property thanks to the generous terms of the recovery project, and were starting renovations with the most important room: the kitchen.  Hina was pitching in on utility expenses in exchange for using the building’s front rooms as a temporary base of operations for her own business.</p>
<p>“If you feel confident that this is the one, then I trust your judgment,” Hunk said.  He knew the brand was reputable, and while he would have looked at a different model, his experience with outfitting a commercial kitchen was on a different scale than hers.  Even with an electrician coming in to upgrade the kitchen’s electrical circuits, their circuit breaker was still not going to be able to handle the same kind of loads that the hotel’s could, nor did it really need to.</p>
<p>Alana haggled the sales associate down to a price she liked and scheduled a delivery date for after the electrical upgrade was (hopefully) accomplished, and then Hunk treated his mom to lunch from a nearby taqueria.  They made themselves a picnic in the cargo space of Alana’s Toyota Sienna.  Tacos al pastor, so good.</p>
<p>“You getting sympathy cravings?” Alana asked jokingly.</p>
<p>“I don’t think I can justify blaming it on that when I loved pork products before,” Hunk admitted, making his mother laugh.  “But hey, since we’re talking about grandkids, what’s the deal with Gyrgan’s?”  Not his smoothest change of topic ever, but they’d been together all afternoon and a better opportunity had not come up, so it would have to do.</p>
<p>Luckily, Hunk came by his nosy trait honestly and his mother, satisfied over a deal well struck, was in a mood to dish.  “Well, I’m sure you’ve heard the story about how he planned to marry his high school sweetheart but then he got drafted and her parents married her off to the Gramont boy while Gyrgan was overseas?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t know the part about how her parents were involved.”  But honestly, it didn’t surprise him much.  The Gradams and the Gramonts had been more well-to-do than the Garretts in their Torrance neighborhood in those days, and awfully self-conscious about it, or so he’d heard.  Family stories tended to get exaggerated with retelling, especially where story-loving Garretts were concerned, but there always remained at least a grain of truth in there.</p>
<p>Alana nodded.  “It’s true.  They moved to Philadelphia and she had a baby girl less than nine months later.  Everybody thought she’d been stepping out on Gyrgan while he was on his tour of duty, but it turns out she got pregnant before he left.”</p>
<p>Hunk set down his taco on the wrapper so he wouldn’t drop it in his lap.  “You mean...”</p>
<p>“They passed off Gyrgan’s baby as Zabar Gramont’s.  Jury’s still out on if Gramont knew or not, but you can bet Castille’s parents knew and that’s why they were in such an all-fire hurry to get her married and out of town.”</p>
<p>“If nobody knew, then how come Tommy was given to Gyrgan?” Hunk asked, as Alana refreshed herself with a brief soda break.</p>
<p>“Their daughter got sick,” she said, putting down the soda cup.  “Her name was Beverly, she was an arbitration attorney in a family full of bankers, and defied old Zabar’s will by choosing to raise her kid on her own as a divorcée instead of staying married to a playboy.  Chip off the old block if you ask me.  But she developed adult-onset Leigh’s disease, it’s very rare.  Castille died of it shortly after Beverly’s brother was born, but back then genetic testing wasn’t commonly done like it is now.  The first thing Beverly did after being diagnosed was to have Tommy’s DNA tested, and then it came out that Beverly was not biologically related to the Gramont family.  They disowned her.  Castille’s parents had already passed on, and none of the more distant relatives wanted anything to do with the situation.  Then Beverly’s ex-husband died in a boating accident.  She was facing the possibility of leaving her son to the system, so she put her legal research skills to the test, called in some favors and found out enough to figure out that Gyrgan was most likely her biological father.”</p>
<p>“So she left custody of Tommy to Gyrgan in her will?”  It seemed like a strange choice for a woman who’d just found out a stranger might be her father, but maybe she hadn’t any better choices.</p>
<p>“Yes.  She was satisfied that he was a good enough man that even if he didn’t turn out to be her father he would still try to do the right thing.”  Alana took another pull at her straw.  “As it so happens though, Gyrgan was her father.  They did court-mandated tests in Philadelphia before they’d release Tommy to Gyrgan’s care.”</p>
<p>“Wow.  That’s mindblowing.”  For Gyrgan to find out that the love of his youth had not only probably still loved him ‘til the day she died, but that he would have most likely lost her anyway must be maddening.  Add to that a child he’d never had a chance to know and a grandchild he was now meant to raise, and his head had to be spinning.  Then there was the boy, losing both parents in less than a year and abandoned by the survivors.  “Poor Tommy, what a rough deal for that kid.”</p>
<p>“We’ll help him through it.”  Alana fist-bumped her son’s shoulder.  “He’s with us now.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“You know, when I was pregnant with you I couldn’t get enough red food.”  Krolia smiled at Keith across the booth at the popular little hole in the wall down the street from the village plaza, where they’d met to have lunch together.  “Didn’t matter if it was sweet, sour, savory, animal, vegetable or mineral, it just had to be red.”</p>
<p>She’d been watching him attack his tonkotsu ramen like he didn’t have the rest of the day off to take his time.  Meanwhile, he’d been watching her daintily sample her miso ramen in between hearty slurps of his own lunch.  By force of altruistic will and filial concern he managed to pull himself away from the rich allure of the tonkotsu broth.  “How are you doing, Mom?”</p>
<p>Filial concern didn’t make him any less blunt of a person.</p>
<p>Krolia chuckled and reached out to grasp his hand.  “I’m so grateful to be reunited with you and get to know you again, and spend time with you.”  She swallowed; her eyes looked wet.  “But watching Gyrgan try to figure out how to parent a twelve year-old keeps reminding me of how much I missed out on, and it hurts.”</p>
<p>Keith squeezed her hand, cool-skinned and fine-boned but still so strong.  “I wish I could give us both back the past, but all I can offer is the future.”</p>
<p>Krolia squeezed back.  “Then I’ll take you up on that, musuko-san.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Nobody was going to top the Holt-Kinkade’s baby announcement with Ryan skywriting while Matt filmed from the ground, so Lance decided to try something a little more in his own wheelhouse.  He checked his makeup in his compact one more time before turning to Shiro.</p>
<p>“Camera ready, querido?”</p>
<p>Shiro gave him the thumbs up.  “Ready.”</p>
<p>Shiro picked up Atlas and sat down on the loveseat in the front parlor.  Lance arranged himself leaning into Shiro’s side without disturbing the cat held up against his chest like a fuzzy blanket.  They’d already set up the camera on a tripod and taken a couple of test shots to make sure their upper bodies would be framed tightly enough so that people would be able to see the necessary details without a magnifying glass.  Lance leaned on Shiro’s shoulder and winked at the camera.  On his right eyelid he’d painted WE’RE as big and colorful as he could.</p>
<p>“Three... two... one.”  </p>
<p>Lance clicked the remote shutter release which he was holding behind Shiro’s broad shoulders, and the flash made the cat give out a disgruntled noise.  They probably should have tested at least once with Atlas in the picture instead of Shiro holding a pillow.  When they checked the image file on the camera’s LCD it turned out that the picture was still fine, Atlas just had his eyes closed, so they set up the second shot.  This time Shiro set Atlas on the floor and held a copy of one of their ultrasound photos right under his chin, while Lance half-leaned across his lap winking his other eye.  On his left eyelid he’d painted PREGANT.</p>
<p>“Honey, you forgot a letter.”</p>
<p>“No I didn’t, it’s a joke.”</p>
<p>Shiro gave him the mother of all deadpan looks.  In the end, Lance relented and took a third picture with PREGNANT spelled correctly on his left eyelid so that Shiro would have an announcement he could send to all the stuffy people he knew who’d never seen a meme before in their lives.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Did you get the announcement?”  Keith stood next to Pidge watching their dogs bound back and forth across the park’s open space.  The relatively cooler weather seemed to be making them more frolicsome.  It was kind of nice not having to pretend he didn’t know about Lance being knocked up anymore.</p>
<p>“Yeah, my favorite part was how Shiro wrote a long footnote to make sure everybody understood that he had nothing to do with the misspelling.”  She turned a sidelong smile on Keith.  “So, anything new with you?”</p>
<p>Nothing she wouldn’t hear about along with everyone else in probably another couple weeks or so, although if Keith could have waited longer he would have.  But his belly pop was getting harder to disguise with loose shirts.  Keith had recently taken to raiding Hunk’s closet, but it was a matter of time before people realized it wasn’t a burrito lunch he was hiding under there.  </p>
<p>“I passed my knowledge test,” he said, because that was new, and it was on his mind.  </p>
<p>Keith was so close to getting his instrument rating now he could taste it.  All that was left was his cross-country solo flight and his checkride, but his solo flight kept getting bumped on the schedule in favor of alphas and betas who made it to that milestone while Keith waited.  It was like getting stuck at the yield sign on a roundabout.  If it kept up at this rate Keith wouldn’t get his rating until after Sunny was weaned.</p>
<p>“That’s great news, congrats!”  Pidge smacked him on the shoulder, then caught sight of his pensive expression.  “That’s great, right?”</p>
<p>Keith smiled wryly.  “Yeah it is great, it’s just I’m spinning my wheels until I can get my logbook endorsed, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“What is it, can’t get your flight time scheduled?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Keith sometimes forgot that Pidge worked for an aircraft manufacturer and knew some of this stuff already, just from a different perspective.  “That’s exactly it, actually.”  That, and the looming deadline when he could no longer safely fly the friendly skies with a fetus as his unofficial copilot.</p>
<p>“Maybe I can help you out with that,” Pidge said, in that tone of voice that Keith knew meant she was dead set on helping him out with that, no maybes about it.  “We just finished a testing program on a new model of light aircraft, it’s ready for the assembly line, but nothing really sells a new model like the airworthiness test.”</p>
<p>If she was talking about putting him in an experimental aircraft fresh off its battery of production tests and ready for rollout, Keith was honored beyond the telling of it.  </p>
<p>But also, “I’m pregnant.”</p>
<p>“I knew it!”  Pidge actually did a little jig.  In her faded green sweatshirt with a gold number ‘5' on it she kind of looked like a leprechaun when she danced, but Keith had no intention of ever telling her that.  When she’d finally had enough of her private celebration and flopped down on a park bench, she said, “I appreciate you FINALLY filling me in, but don’t worry about it, I can still get you in a plane.  The fleet I was talking about has been tested for safety six ways from Sunday.  It’s got active and passive safety features out the wazoo, and the avionics you need for IFR.”</p>
<p>Keith sat down beside her.  “You were directly involved in this one, weren’t you?”</p>
<p>“It’s not my baby, if that’s what you’re asking.”  Pidge kicked her sneaker-clad feet, which barely touched the ground.  “It’s a redesign of a military light trainer that we’re making for the GA market.  I was just one member of the reconceptualization team, helping optimize the fail-safes.  But I wanted to help make something that Ryan would hypothetically feel safe flying if he had Matt and Banon in the cabin with him.”  She met his eyes.  “I put in lots of overtime on this plane.  I know I can talk James into letting you take one on a publicity run.”</p>
<p>She had him right up until she mentioned Griffin.  Keith agreed to let Pidge help him just because it seemed to please her so much, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath for an assist from Mister Prissy Pants.  That anal twit had gone so far as to hire a digital artist to Photoshop Keith’s abs back on in the wedding pictures, using photos that had been taken in the bridal shop back when he’d first tried the infinity gown on for Farla.  If Griffin agreed to this request, it would be in spite of Keith’s involvement, not because of it; and if wishes were kittens then he’d be a pregnant cat.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance hunched over his laptop set on the ottoman in Shiro’s office.  He was fuming.  “Why are my energy reserves running out so fast?”  There was only one person who could be responsible for this, and she was on the group call so the question wasn’t rhetorical.</p>
<p><em>“It’s ‘cause you’re eating for seven now, Pike.”</em>  Pidge sounded positively gleeful about it.</p>
<p>Lance bounced angrily in his chair.  “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean Pike has to be pregnant!”</p>
<p>
  <em>“But it’s so funny when Shiro the Hero jumps in front of you all the time, and now he has an excuse!”</em>
</p>
<p>Lance glared across the office at his husband, who was holding Atlas up against his chest like a fluffy shield.</p>
<p>“Well, why did you have to give me a whole litter, huh?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Because Neko have six nipples on average.  Give or take a nipple.”</em>
</p>
<p>Neko was Pike’s race in the game.</p>
<p>“Six?” Shiro asked, then blushed when he realized he said that out loud in a tone connoting keen interest.</p>
<p><em>“I’m gonna pretend like I didn’t just hear that,”</em> Pidge said.</p>
<p>Lance was going to file that away for possible future roleplay purposes outside of the game.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll just say, owning multiple milk dispensers means a Neko mother probably needs to feed multiple kittens.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Makes sense to me.”</em>
</p>
<p>Matthew.  Had it not been for the laws of this land.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Aren’t we basically sidelining our only reliable rogue if we chuck him full of kittens?  He’s gonna be a chonk.”</em>
</p>
<p>Keith!  The voice of reason.  Wait a minute– </p>
<p><em>“I can’t believe you just used ‘reliable’ and ‘rogue’ in the same sentence, Thunderstorm,”</em> Pidge replied.  <em>“Pike’s just going to have to be sneakier and you guys are going to have to get better at pinch-hitting.  Face it, you could use a workable challenge after those rings made you all magically untraceable to any villain I could even think of sending after you.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Fair,”</em> Keith said.</p>
<p>No the fuck it was not fair.</p>
<p>“All right team.”  Shiro set Atlas down on the floor; Atlas promptly jumped back up into Shiro’s lap.  “We’re just going to have to make the best of things and try to account for Pike’s six nip– I mean, kittens in our strategy for acquiring the next wondrous item that might save Block and Ada’s village.”</p>
<p>Betrayed by the bae.  At least Pike had an invisibility cloak he could sulk under.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro sat up against the upholstered headboard, bolstered by multitudinous hypoallergenic pillows as he used his tablet to check stock exchanges in the Eastern Hemisphere.  Lance was taking his own sweet time in the bathroom, having gone into the vanity alcove after their shower and remaining in there even after Shiro had finished dressing for bed.  Shiro hoped he wasn’t still sore about the game.  He hadn’t anticipated Pidge pulling a stunt like this, although he’d known her long enough by now that perhaps he should have.</p>
<p>At least Neko had shorter gestation periods than humans?  Pike would probably be able to deliver his fictional kittens just in time to take his turn guarding Block’s village from looters during Lance’s real maternity convalescence.  Anyway, damn it, it wasn’t Shiro’s fault!  Except, it kind of was, because Lance didn’t get pregnant by himself.</p>
<p>“Hey there hot stuff.”</p>
<p>Shiro looked up and felt the tablet slip out of his hands and fall into his lap.  There in the doorway to the bathing suite leaned Lance in a crocheted lace robe and nothing else.  The robe fell open in the front, revealing what he’d been up to in the vanity alcove: four dark brown discs to match the two Shiro was used to seeing were spaced at even intervals over the gently curving slope of Lance’s stomach.</p>
<p>Lance grinned.  “You like?”</p>
<p>He did.  “How did you get those?”</p>
<p>“I used cocoa butter makeup.”  Lance looked down at his handiwork.  “I probably could have gotten a more realistic result with henna, but then I might have had to answer a bunch of embarrassing questions when we go back to doctor for the gender reveal because henna takes a few weeks to come off.”  Lance looked back up with a smirk.  “This stuff you can just lick off.”</p>
<p>Excellent.  “Come here.”</p>
<p>Lance stepped up to the edge of the bed.  Shiro pulled him into his arms and inhaled his scent, and smiled.  It might just be the cocoa butter, but Lance smelled sweeter.  Soon his pregnancy smell would be apparent to everyone and not just Shiro.  He slid his hands over Lance’s smooth skin and peered up into his eyes.</p>
<p>“You’re not mad?”</p>
<p>“Not anymore.”  Lance ran his hands through Shiro’s hair.  “Pidge might be when she realizes she handed me an endless source of nipple jokes on a silver platter.”</p>
<p>Shiro chuckled, and was pleased when his breath on Lance’s chest caused him to shiver and sigh.  He nuzzled at the real nipples, larger and darker from the hormones that were helping to sustain their child.  He laved one with his tongue; Lance hummed in appreciation and carded his fingers through the finer hair at the nape of Shiro’s neck.  Shiro nuzzled lower and lapped at one of the cosmetic nipples.  He tasted like a tropical oasis right in the middle of a New York winter.</p>
<p>Shiro gathered him up in his arms, warm and sweet, and Lance came willingly, rubbing his shoulders and back as he tasted the treat which had been solicitously painted on his skin.  When the cocoa butter was consumed, Shiro pulled Lance down beside him in the bed and tasted his lips, sampled his breath.  There was no urgency in their movements, no race to a set point, not this time.  Each languid caress was its own reward, and so they carried on throughout the night.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>In a yellow-tiled bathroom in Washington Heights, a thirty-one year-old woman named Omnia engaged in one of the modern rituals of sexually active childbearing people: sitting hunched over on a toilet squinting at a stick in her hand.  The word ‘yes’ glared up at her from the stick’s tiny screen.  She’d spent extra for a digital test to save herself the stress of trying to figure out lines.  Then she’d forgone the cup because she didn’t own any cups that she never wanted to drink out of again.</p>
<p>She should have used a cup.  This was the single most obnoxious affirmation she had ever received.  She shook the stick, knowing full well that if the message changed to ‘no’ then it would just be a false negative from flinging pee out of the test strip.  But it would buy her a few more minutes of hope while she took the second home pregnancy test in the package of three.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>CFI Stride flipped through Keith’s new flight plan with its accompanying charts as they both stood in his office.  Stride’s office wasn’t an environment that encouraged sitting down.  He had an L-shaped desk wedged into the corner, a wall full of file cabinets, and an odd assortment of card tables holding office equipment that might be older than Keith was.  The only sound for several minutes was the sharp rustle of papers flapping.</p>
<p>“So you’re going to fly one of those new Doves, eh?” Stride finally said.  “Out of Hawkins’ private airfield.”</p>
<p>“I’ll still have to talk to SCT on takeoff and approach,” Keith said.  </p>
<p>Stride would not be on the hook for whatever condition Keith brought the Dove back in, since it didn’t belong to the school, but Keith didn’t want his CFI to think that meant he was signing off on a turkey shoot.  There would be accountability built in, because James Griffin would make sure of it.  Keith was still having trouble believing Griffin had agreed to this.  He had a feeling that Farla might have had more to do with his acquiescence than Pidge, but whatever the reason was, Griffin had decided that not only would Keith be permitted to pilot one of the new Doves as a publicity stunt to prove to investors that they were safe as houses, he would also be on hand personally to clear him for taxi and takeoff upon departure, and for landing when he returned.</p>
<p>“Transferring out of uncontrolled airspace is going to add an additional challenge to your radio communications,” Stride said.  “You’ll have more hurry up and wait.”</p>
<p>“I’ve factored in the time buffer,” Keith said, pointing out the relevant block on his flight plan form.</p>
<p>“So you have.”  Stride nodded.  “You’re the most dogged student on my roster.  A stubborn streak is a good quality to have in a pilot.  When you’re up there and something unexpected happens, you can’t just give up.”</p>
<p>“No sir,” Keith agreed, wondering where Stride was going with this.  He was always quick to let his students know when they were doing anything right or wrong, but he was not one for blowing smoke up his students’ asses, which was something Keith appreciated about the guy.</p>
<p>“You’ve got a bit of a temper,” Stride said.  Then he smiled.  “So do I, and I get it.  But you’ll be relying on ATC a lot more for this cross-country than your last one.”</p>
<p>“Yes sir?”</p>
<p>“I just want you to know that getting into it with the tower...”  He shook his head ruefully.  “It’s the kind of fun a man can live to regret.”</p>
<p>“...sir?”</p>
<p>“I’m being serious here, Kogane.”  Stride put a hand on Keith’s shoulder.  “They can fine you for profanity.  They can fine me too as your CFI.”</p>
<p>So that was why all the delays?  Not because he was omega, but because he had a tiny little anger management issue?  He had accidentally-on-purpose stomped the instep of a fellow trainee who got up too close behind him trying to cop a feel.  The action had netted him a reputation on the ground school campus for being a hardass, which he’d welcomed at the time because it came with the side effect of other students giving him plenty of personal space.  He hadn’t anticipated that it might also lead to something like this.</p>
<p>Keith straightened his posture and looked Stride dead in the eye.  “I won’t let you down, sir.”</p>
<p>“Good.”  Stride clicked open a pen to sign the endorsement so Keith could proceed with the flight plans.  “Make sure you don’t let yourself down either.  You’ve come a long way, Kogane.  Don’t lose that momentum from cussing somebody out, no matter how sweet the temptation.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“That’s so nice, darling.”  The alpha, a woman of a certain age named Jain, reclined at Lance’s shampoo station with closed eyes and a complacent smirk.  “There’s nothing like the fingers of an omega, I tell you.”</p>
<p>Lance made vague noises of empty gratitude, which he knew by now was all this one would expect from him.  Jain was a longtime customer of the school salon.  Not for cut or color, oh no, she went to a pricey salon in the Flatiron District for that.  No, Jain came into the school salon whenever she needed to freshen up her long, blonde tresses with a wash and blowout service.  Which was nearly every weekday, as she could well afford to look like she’d just come from the salon and frequently elected to invoke that privilege.</p>
<p>She preferred to have her hair washed by an omega apprentice whenever one was available, which was probably why she kept patronizing the student salon instead of a blow dry bar.  If Kalon had been in that day, Lance would not have been the omega made available to suds up ‘the Empress’ as she was known behind her back by students and staff alike.  Kalon was stingy with the time of the few apprentices he took on.  Under his focused tutelage Lance had improved by leaps and bounds at applying henna hair treatments of various kinds, but he was still at a basic level for applying mehndi designs to skin.  Kalon seemed to think he could turn Lance into an artist capable of intricate designs, and Lance was willing to keep trying to reward that faith for as long as he could.  However, Kalon was currently at an event for National School Choice Week with his nephew, leaving Lance fancy free for the plucking.</p>
<p>The one who had dared to pluck sneered over his shoulder checking Lance’s progress with Jain when he should have been watching where he was aiming the hair dryer on his current client.  Flazon only had seniority on the salon floor because he was on his second round of remedial hours leading up to his third attempt at the cosmetology exam.  Also, most of the senior staff were at National School Choice Week events, it would seem, and the rest were cranking away in their offices working on recruitment plans for the year ahead.  Lance told himself to buck up as he carefully wrapped Jain’s long rope of hair in a microfiber towel and began applying gentle pressure to blot it dry.</p>
<p>Jain let out an immodest moan of the sort Lance hadn’t had to hear from a stranger in almost two years.  Twenty more hours, Lance reminded himself.  He only had to log twenty more hours of hands-on training before he could request to sign up for the written and practical exams to obtain his license.  It might disappoint Kalon to lose a dedicated apprentice, but Romelle would probably grant his request anyway.  Thanks to cutting back even his part-time hours, Lance had now been around for longer than any of the other student beauticians, except for Flazon.</p>
<p>Lance helped Jain rise from the backwash unit, holding the weighted towel up behind her like a parody of a bridesmaid.  He’d recently heard from Rachel formally congratulating him on the baby news and furtively reassuring him that all was well on the clash of joy front.  He still wouldn’t be able to be a member of her wedding party, though – not because of the pup so much as because he was married.  According to Master Sypat’s instructions which Rachel and Daniel were still striving to abide by, Rachel’s two honor attendants would have to be unmarried and have served in no more than three previous weddings.  That removed all of Vibiana’s children from consideration for the role; even Marco, who had now been an attendant in four weddings including Luis’s, James Griffin’s, and two buddies of his back in Cuba.</p>
<p>Lance was fine with just being a guest, assuming he’d even be in any shape to go on the day.  He realized that he was smiling in a way that must make him look a bit touched, as he noticed Jemka waiting by their styling station and watching him with a cocked eyebrow and a tapping foot.  They were a recently promoted beta who was blazing through the required hands-on hours; Type A and driven to succeed, with a lack of patience reinforcing those traits.  Lance was supposed to be walking Jain over to their station, not moseying like he was in an Easter Parade, though it didn’t seem to be bothering the client any.  No matter how fabulous the blowout, Jain was really gracing everybody with her presence to be touched by an omega, and was probably in no hurry for Lance to let go of her towel.</p>
<p>Lance was as surprised as anyone when he let go of the towel.  It slithered to the floor from his lax hands as Jemka’s incredulous face flickered in his vision.  Shit, he was going down.  The pup!  Lance marshaled his remaining sensibilities to folding his hands and feet under him for a controlled fall into a sitting position, criss-cross applesauce.</p>
<p>The jolt to his tail bone was enough to send the spots dancing back out of his eyes, though the way the floor was swimming he had a feeling he’d better not try to stand up right away.  Jemka knelt down to take his pulse.</p>
<p>“You know you’re supposed to eat sometimes, right?”  They sounded annoyed even as they were taking care of him.</p>
<p>“I’m not hungry or sick.”  Now he could finally say it.  “I’m just pregnant.”</p>
<p>“Oh hell.”  Jemka turned to the other student stylists who’d gathered around to get their daily dose of gossip.  “Somebody call his alpha.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Itadakimasu.”</p>
<p>Shinji and his guest humbly received the trays of thinly sliced beef and vegetables for shabu-shabu and then got started loading their hot pot with vegetables to season the broth.  Their two hour all-you-can-eat timer had begun.  Sakuragi watched the pot as if she could make it simmer faster by concentrating on it.  She had covered her plum pink maid’s uniform with a long buttoned cardigan, but she was still receiving discreet glances from other patrons.  They were still in Akihabara where she was not a complete unknown, so it was possible that she’d been recognized.</p>
<p>Shinji had first attempted to schedule a meeting with the Dollhouse manager who had approached Tatsuo.  When a game of phone tag ensued, he tried to arrange a meeting with one of Dollhouse’s PR reps, but all of them seemed to be busy at all times.  How curious.  Now here he was meeting with one of Dollhouse’s former employees.  It was an unusual circumstance to be sure, but Shinji had questions that only an insider could answer for him.</p>
<p>“I don’t know what I can tell you that you don’t already know, Ise-san,” Sakuragi admitted as she wasted no time swirling a piece of beef through the broth as soon as it was ready.  </p>
<p>The beta had been unhappy that he wasn’t interested in talking to her about booking a gig, but willing to engage in conversation in exchange for food.  Between her job at a tsundere maid café and trying to get stage time at an underground venue where unsigned hopefuls could take turns at the mic, the former idol trainee was generally too impoverished of time and money to afford a meal like this on her own.</p>
<p>“Anything you can tell me about the culture at Dollhouse is of value to me, Sakuragi-san” Shinji said.  “I do not wish for my cousin to go into such an arrangement uninformed.”</p>
<p>Sakuragi nodded, understanding immediately what he was asking for and why.  Idol management companies, even the ones with better reputations, were rather notorious for holding their cards close to their vests.  “He can expect exclusivity clauses in his contract.”</p>
<p>Shinji selected a slice of beef from the tray.  “For public performances?”</p>
<p>Sakuragi snorted.  “For everything.  He can’t have suitors while he’s under contract.  It’s a legal grey zone, so it’s hard to challenge.”  She shrugged.  “He won’t have time for them anyway.  He’ll be too busy going to lessons and handshake events, and keeping up with his social media feeds.”</p>
<p>“Such a full schedule must surely be well rewarded.”</p>
<p>Shinji was fishing for salary terms.  They both knew it.  Sakuragi smirked.</p>
<p>“Lessons are very expensive,” she said.  “So is beauty maintenance.”</p>
<p>Sakuragi was a fox-faced beauty.  Tall, svelte, with skin like the petals of the flower her family was named for, she rather reminded Shinji of another fox-faced beauty of whom he was extremely fond.  It was not just in appearance that she reminded him of Tatsuo.  He kept up with industry gossip, so he knew that she’d been cut from 9Chick for having a personality deemed ‘too intense’ to progress on her team.</p>
<p>“If you had it all to do again,” Shinji asked her the million-dollar question, “would you?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Sakuragi said with no hesitation.  “Only I’d hold out for Team Spice instead of assuming I could work my way into a lateral move from Team Sugar.  I should have waited for them, I knew they were the better team for me.”  She looked annoyed with herself as she took a pause to nibble down beef.  “Now because of my own overeagerness I have a canceled contract on my record, and I will have to try twice as hard proving myself to get an audition for Team Spice.”</p>
<p>Shinji held a blanched sliver of beef that had been on its way to feed his face, momentarily too staggered to complete the action.  “So there are intangible rewards, then.”  He had expected more of a tale of woe from her.</p>
<p>“I can sing, I can dance.”  Sakuragi snatched up more beef for blanching.  “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do for a living.  I don’t have any family in the theater world, my parents are greengrocers.  How else am I going to get a foot in the door?”</p>
<p>Sakuragi could indeed sing and dance.  Shinji had checked out fan footage from a 9Chick trainee performance that someone had uploaded to twitter from their phone.  He was rather impressed actually; as a trainee she was not expected to be on top of her game right out of the gate.  The idea was that she was supposed to improve her skills with the support of the fans, whom she would win over through socializing with them regularly via social media and handshake events.</p>
<p>They were supposed to become personally invested in helping her improve, and prove it by purchasing merch.  It was an integral part of Dollhouse’s business model.  However, this young woman had ambition of her own, and enough motivation to see her through the lean times.  She had the musicality necessary to master her chosen craft, should she continue pursuing it.  The two things she didn’t have were connections and the ability to convincingly portray a moé.</p>
<p>The latter was apt to become her Achilles heel in the specific niche that she seemed level set on trying to occupy.  Shinji was terrible at staying out of other peoples’ business.  It was a spectacular failing of his.  He berated himself for this as he retrieved one of his business cards from an inside suit pocket, then held out the card with both hands, bowing his head.  Sakuragi was startled by the move.  To accept the card gracefully she would have to first put down the chopsticks.</p>
<p>Sakuragi did manage to collect herself, and the card, but she looked confused about it.  “Pardon me Ise-san, but I thought you said that you did not have any gigs requiring my services?”</p>
<p>“I don’t have any current bookings, it is true,” Shinji replied, “however, I do on occasion field requests to find backup singers and dancers for international artists who schedule impromptu performances in Nippon.  Sometimes for clubs, sometimes for talk shows.  Every once in a while I even get a request to find session singers for studio work.  I know this is not quite what you had in mind, but I would humbly request that you consider it regardless.”</p>
<p>Shinji allowed to himself that he may have inadvertently made a discovery in this young woman, though he was not certain what, if anything, he should do about it.  He was a booking agent, not a talent scout.  Nevertheless, when Saguraki held her card out to him in turn, he accepted it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Of all the ways he had ever been interrupted at the office by a phone call from a stranger, Shiro felt that ‘hey dude, your omega passed out at work, you wanna come get him’ had to be among the most heart stopping.  He summoned Kai, hollering instructions he scarcely recalled at poor Baujal as he ran out of the office, and then off they drove like Bruce Wayne rushing to the Batcave.  Lance had been conscious and a tad grumpy when Shiro had swept into the student salon, his glower increasing as Shiro lectured him about hypertension all the way to Doctor Gorma’s office.  Vitals had been checked, blood had been drawn, and a Xanax had been offered to Shiro before Lance was whisked off to get a B vitamin shot while Shiro was ushered into a consultation room for a private conversation with Lance’s OBGYN.</p>
<p>“He’s a little anemic,” said Doctor Gorma calmly.  “I’ll adjust his prenatal vitamin prescription, but I would also recommend adding more lean meats and cooked eggs to his diet.”</p>
<p>Shiro’s clenched hands relaxed slightly on the arms of the chair.  “He doesn’t have toxemia?”</p>
<p>Doctor Gorma blinked at him for a beat before he said, “No.  But you know–”</p>
<p>“Yes?”  Shiro leaned forward.  Anything the doctor suggested he should do for Lance and the pup, he would do.  If he suggested that Shiro should install an elaborate birthing pool in the house in case Lance went into precipitous labor, then Shiro would fight tooth and nail with the DOB to make that happen.</p>
<p>“You’re coming up on the fourth month of pregnancy, which would be an ideal time to take a babymoon,” was what Gorma suggested.</p>
<p>“Babymoon.”  Shiro had never heard the term before.  “What’s a babymoon?”</p>
<p>“It’s a chance for expectant parents to take a little time for themselves and relax,” Gorma said.  “The second trimester is the most comfortable trimester for most gestating mothers, and it’s also a time when they don’t have to worry as much about travel restrictions.  Before you know it you’ll both be caught up in baby showers, childbirth classes and other preparations for your little one’s arrival.  Best to take a vacation while you still can.  Valentine’s Day is coming up as well, the timing couldn’t be better.”</p>
<p>“A babymoon.”  A vacation?  In February.  “You say this will help with Lance’s stress levels?”</p>
<p>Doctor Gorma blinked at him for another beat.  “Yes, I imagine assisting you to relax will help Lance’s stress levels enormously.”</p>
<p>“Then consider it done.”</p>
<p>Now all Shiro had to do was research the safest places on Earth where pregnant people could go to unwind.  Lance wouldn’t get high blood pressure on his watch.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“SoCal, November niner two four alpha leaving your airspace to the southwest at four thousand feet.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“November niner two four alpha, frequency change approved, good day.”</em>
</p>
<p>Keith grinned as he continued his approach toward Hawkins Aircraft Company’s private airfield near Santa Monica Bay.  It had been a wonderful day, even better than he’d thought it would be (and he’d thought it would be bitchin’).  Griffin had only been slightly annoying, asking him to line up and wait for takeoff clearance on a runway so devoid of activity that Keith could actually hear the screech of a red-tailed hawk hunting over the nearby wetlands.  But once he’d taken to the air, the rest was pure pleasure, even with instrument flight rules keeping his eyes glued to his avionics much of the time.  The experimental aircraft used a center stick instead of the yoke he’d trained on, and he took to the intuitive handling as a fledging eyas takes to the sky.</p>
<p>He’d even gotten to use those skills in a real IFR situation for a brief spell over Pasadena.  Grey clouds full of sparkling water droplets rolled around the Dove’s cockpit like pixie dust, creating an atmosphere humming with anticipation.  Keith had half-expected to see a mermaid’s lagoon below him when it cleared.  That it was instead a city grid in rolling foothills, startlingly green in the haze, had not been in the least bit disappointing.  The weather cleared and now he could see the Hawkins Aircraft Company’s plant and administration building and assembly facilities, and it’s long hangars alongside ramps leading onto taxiways to the three runways.</p>
<p>Keith was expected at the facility’s non-precision instrument runway.  The Dove was a single-engine four-seater like the Cessna he’d been training on, but with a more snug interior configuration and a wider exterior field of vision.  He could probably make out the runway’s threshold stripes if he squinted, but he was coming in under IFR, so instead he turned his gaze back to his avionics and starting pulling up diagrams and plates.  He changed the radio’s frequency to the one used at Hawkins airfield.</p>
<p>“Hawkins airfield traffic, Dove two four alpha ten miles northeast of the airfield, landing straight-in runway two two, Hawkins.”</p>
<p>Griffin’s voice crackled over the radio.  <em>“Dove two four alpha, go around, Dove two four alpha.”</em></p>
<p>“Hawkins, say again?  Hawkins.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, prepare to copy, Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>Oh no that fucker did NOT.  Runway twenty-two was where he’d already been cleared to land when he filed his flight plan via ForeFlight, and Griffin wasn’t an FAA certified air traffic controller anyway.  There was no particular reason Keith needed to land on runway forty-five, and runway fourteen was out simply because it was VFR only and this was an IFR exercise.  There was no other traffic in the area, either on GPS or visible outside of the canopy, and no crosswind, just a headwind that wasn’t gusting.  Ergo, Griffin was just fucking with him.</p>
<p>Keith realized his irritation had not stopped him from taking pencil in hand, prepared to copy to his kneemounted logbook.  CFI Stride’s drilling had done its job, turning some responses into such second nature he literally did them without thinking about it.  He checked his approach plate again and sure enough, Griffin had been futzing with it.  Runway twenty-two out of service due to twelve mile-per-hour winds?  Bitch please.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, maintain one thousand five hundred feet until established on the localizer, cleared ILS runway four five approach, Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>So it was to be the precision instrument runway after all, was it?  Keith would need to perform a circle-to-land maneuver to line up with it, but at least it was a much bigger spot to aim at, with horizontal and vertical positioning guidance.  He scribbled down shorthand and ran through his checklist in ForeFlight loaded on his iPad, which was mounted on the plane’s A pillar.  Maybe Griffin thought he was about to get his own back for screaming at a Halloween costume like a baby bird way back when they were teens.  He better get ready to eat some more crow.</p>
<p>“Hawkins, inbound on the ILS, runway four five, Hawkins.”</p>
<p>Keith adjusted his fuel mixture and leveled off at fifteen hundred feet before banking into his turn.  The airfield appeared to spin in a slow cartwheel below him as he maneuvered into position to parallel the runway, but he was still watching his instruments because that was what he was supposed to be doing.  He nudged the stick to turn again, eyes peeled for the localizer signal on his instrument panel to tell him where he was relative to runway forty-five’s center line.  When he found it, he checked his glide slope indicator and saw that his angle of descent was still too steep despite that he was flying into the wind, so he lowered the flaps to produce more drag.  His indicators were right where he wanted them to be, and in his peripheral vision he could see the runway’s blast pad arrows pointing toward the touch down zone.</p>
<p>“Hawkins, Dove two four alpha entering upwind runway four five, Hawkins.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, cleared to land runway four five, hold short of runway one four, Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>Even if Griffin had been a certified air traffic controller Keith could have still refused a LAHSO, especially under IFR.  As a student PIC conducting an IFR solo, he really should refuse.  But if he did that, then he’d have to ask for another landing clearance and dance to Griffin’s tune for even longer.  It felt like a waste of the higher ground.</p>
<p>(“Make sure you don’t let yourself down either.  You’ve come a long way, Kogane.”)</p>
<p>Now he had CFI Stride talking in his head like Obi Wan Kenobi.  What would he do if this were a real IFR situation and all other things remained the same?  Keith frowned.  If all other things remained the same, then Sunny would be a passenger on this hypothetical IFR landing.  Keith firmed his resolve and delivered the hardest communication of the whole day.  </p>
<p>“Unable.”  </p>
<p>He throttled to climb back to pattern altitude and raised the flaps.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, stand by, Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Hawkins, roger that, thanks.”  For being a dick.  Thanks for that.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, climb and maintain one thousand, five hundred feet, Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>No shit, really?  “Hawkins, affirmative.”  </p>
<p>Keith could request another runway, except Griffin had taken runway twenty-two off the board, and using runway fourteen under VFR might invalidate his solo.  There were other airports he could be diverted to, and he had enough fuel for that, but there had been no prior discussion of retrieving Hawkins Aircraft Company’s experimental aircraft from another airport.  He still wasn’t too impressed with James Griffin and wouldn’t mind putting him up to some trouble, but he liked Griffin’s grandfather and he would hate to take any pep out of the old guy’s step.  Keith checked his avionics again, and what do you know, runway twenty-two was no longer out of service due to a stiff breeze.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, after climbing one thousand, five hundred feet state intentions, Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>Impatient asshole.</p>
<p>“Hawkins, Dove two four alpha request landing LOC runway two two, Hawkins.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, cleared to land LOC runway two two, Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>Five by five.  Keith copied back the instructions and banked for another go-around, back to the runway he’d been cleared for at the start.  He was coming in with the wind at his back, and only lateral guidance from the runway beacons.  He glanced through his checklist and adjusted his flow.  As the localizer lit up, he saw runway twenty-two’s decision bar through the canopy, so he hit his pulse lights and lowered his flaps thirty degrees.</p>
<p>“Hawkins, Dove two four alpha, runway in sight.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, roger that.”</em>
</p>
<p>Then runway twenty-two’s VASI lights flashed on, white over white.</p>
<p>
  <em>“White over white, you’re high as a kite Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>Keith gritted his teeth.  He knew the mnemonic, and he knew it meant he was too high for the glide slope, he didn’t need to have it singsonged at him by a jerkass.  He’d figured the tailwind would give him less loft, but maybe he’d banked into his final turn too soon.  But if jerkass thought Keith was gonna overshoot, he better prepare for disappointment and a piece of his– </p>
<p>(“Don’t lose that momentum from cussing somebody out, no matter how sweet the temptation.”)</p>
<p>Keith held his head high as he lowered the flaps full while reducing power to correct his course.  The VASI lights changed.</p>
<p>“Red over white, everything’s alright.”</p>
<p>Keith breathed a sigh of relief as he floated over the runway’s first designation markings.  The stall warning sounded just before he felt the landing gear connect with the tarmac.  He set the power to idle to let the Dove coast to a slower speed, as he continued to enjoy the breath continuing to enter and exit his body, and the sense of accomplishment over the day’s events.  The hand that was not on the center stick found its way to his belly.  Sunny had been his good luck charm.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dove two four alpha, runway two two, taxi via Bravo and proceed to hangar, Dove two four alpha.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Hawkins, roger wilco.”</p>
<p>Keith applied the landing gear brakes to slow down enough to turn onto taxiway Bravo.  As he steered the sleek and stalwart little plane over to the wide open hangar, he spotted two familiar figures waiting for him next to a few members of the groundcrew who were no doubt there to see what kind of wear and tear he’d managed to inflict on the Dove.  The shorter of the two familiar personages was Pidge, grinning and waving at him as he brought the plane to a complete stop on the apron.  The taller of the two was not Hunk, nor had Keith really thought it would be, as he’d told Hunk this time and the time before that it would make him nervous for his whole flight to leave him on the tarmac and know that he was waiting there for him to return after his solo.  Hunk had agreed to his request, neither one of them being the sort to need constant check-ins with each other, by bond link or otherwise.</p>
<p>The previous time, Hunk had chosen instead to surprise him by waiting in what passed for a pilot lounge back in the ground school offices.  This time though, enjoying the dubious hospitality on a sharpie-patched pleather couch with a Styrofoam cup of truly abominable coffee at hand was not an option, so unless Hunk was able to finagle his way past Hawkins Aircraft Company’s security without an invitation, Keith might not see him until he got home, though he would call him and tell him everything that had happened as soon as he got the chance.  The tall person waiting next to Pidge was none other than CFI Stride, wearing the royal blue DRIFIRE togs he favored whenever he expected to be flying.  He must be taking a student up later or have taken one up already, yet he’d still made enough time in his schedule to bully his way onto Griffin’s airfield.  Keith’s frown had turned upside down by the time he popped the forward hinged canopy and climbed out of the plane.</p>
<p>“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a student pilot handle a high warble on the radio the way that you just did,” Stride said, clapping Keith on the shoulder as soon as he was in range.  “You came in a little hot but you never lost the bubble.  Good job, tiger!”</p>
<p>“Thank you sir.”  Keith beamed under the rough praise.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you were hot shit up there.”  Pidge had yielded the fight to stop cussing entirely and instead made a compromise with herself to only refrain from cussing around Banon.  “The suits on the conference call were all creaming themselves.”</p>
<p>“Thanks Pidge.”</p>
<p>All three of them turned at the jangly sound of a golf cart trying to hit its maximum speed of twenty miles per hour.  The cart rolled up on the apron and squeaked to a stop, and four people jumped out.  Hunk was one of the passengers, his presence a sweet bolt out of the blue.  Three of the people walking up the apron from the golf cart were smiling, and those three would be Hunk, Farla, and James Hawkins himself.  The other one was James Griffin, who bustled ahead of even Hunk to reach Keith first.</p>
<p>“How come you didn’t accept the LAHSO?”  It seemed Keith had managed to put Griffin’s nose out of joint after all.  “You could’ve landed sooner and avoided the overshoot.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t overshoot,” Keith was quick to defend himself.</p>
<p>“We don’t allow our student pilots to accept LAHSO,” Stride interrupted smoothly.  “School policy.”</p>
<p>“It would have been risky for him to accept a LAHSO if the meteorological conditions had really been adverse enough to impact visibility,” Hawkins agreed as he stepped forward offering his hand to clasp.  “You made the right call young man, well done.”</p>
<p>Was this what bursting with pride felt like?  “Thank you sir.”</p>
<p>“You made us all proud,” Farla said as Hawkins released Keith from the single hand clasp.</p>
<p>Keith knew she didn’t just mean that he’d made his friends and family proud, or even the people at Hawkins Aircraft Company.  “Thanks Farla.”  Omega pride was not the reason he’d gone into the sky, but he felt honored nonetheless.  Honored and maybe a little bit overawed at the prospect of being seen as a door-kicker-opener.  If that’s what it took to get his dream off the ground, then that’s what he’d do, but he was hardly the first omega to go after a career as a charter pilot.</p>
<p>Then he was being passed into the arms of a person whose opinions mattered on a whole different level, which was the reason why Keith knew he’d have been rattled if he’d known that his mate was watching and waiting.  Hunk knew that too, which was probably why he hadn’t told Keith that he’d be watching along with the Hawkins staff.</p>
<p>“You were amazing,” Hunk said.</p>
<p>Keith’s heart felt so full, that Hunk always thought that, and said that, when it was his support that buoyed him up to keep reaching for amazing.  That he did this even when Keith knew he didn’t make it easy.  It was hard to express such effulgence in words, so Keith trilled and scented his neck.  Hunk laughed a little breathlessly, and sent a pulse of pure love back to him through the bond.  They might not use it to check in with each other constantly, but when they did use the bond sense they used it to its fullest effect.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/><em>“Funny you should ask.”</em>  Shiro heard rustling papers as his property manager, Abi Han, presumably sorted through files.  <em>“Dr. Zarwa called yesterday.  He said the family emergency he went overseas to attend to is going to take longer than he anticipated and he’s asking to sublet or even break his lease if that’s at all possible.”</em>  Dr. Zarwa was a climatologist who was a member of San Francisco State University’s adjunct faculty.  Or at least he had been on the faculty until recently, from the sound of it.  <em>“Our cleaning crew has been taking care of the house while he’s been gone and they say it’s in great condition.  They should have a short turnaround time on making it ready to rent again after the moving company Dr. Zarwa hired gets finished removing his belongings.  You might want to consider offering it as a vacation rental this time instead of a long-term rental.  It’s in an excellent location to attract tenants who are willing to pay a premium for short-term agreements.”</em></p>
<p>Dr. Zarwa had been renting the Nihonjin-Machi house which had been owned by Shiro’s grandmother Julia, before being willed to Shiro’s mother Lisa, and then to Shiro himself.  Shiro had never lived in the house, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to sell it, so instead he’d been renting it out with the assistance of the property management company that Abi Han worked for.  This was actually how he’d met Matt Holt, who had been renting it along with several other omegas, all so freshly graduated from area colleges that the ink was barely dry on their diplomas when they’d moved in.  All of them fumbling toward adulthood while trying to figure out if they wanted to apply for graduate school, dare to pursue careers past entry level, or just go ahead and marry a suitor already.  How to spend the precious few young adult years before family responsibilities set in was the eternal existential question for upper middle class omegas.</p>
<p>Shiro smiled to remember the young fearsome foursome, so enchantingly silly and completely unaware of how invigorating their presence could be to the older, more jaded souls crowding around them like moths around a street lamp.  Colleen had not been happy with Matt’s choice to rent a house with that crew, but he had been a legal adult with a budding career as a quality assurance analyst which netted him enough money to cover his share of expenses, so there had been little she could do about it.  The housemates on the one year lease had been Matt, his college roommate Beezer, and two sharp-tongued beauties named Tal and Skath.  There had also been a revolving door of couch-surfacing omega friends helping them foot the grocery and entertainment bills.  No, Shiro had never lived in that house, but he had slept in it a fair few times.</p>
<p><em>“Perhaps you could give the idea a test run,”</em> Abi said, interrupting Shiro’s little side trip down memory lane.  <em>“We could set the house up with the kinds of furnishings and groceries that our homestay tenants usually ask for, and you can stay there during your babymoon and tell us what you think.”</em></p>
<p>Shiro had contacted Abi to ask for her assistance on finding a vacation rental where he and Lance could escape for Valentine’s Day weekend.  He’d been thinking of something along the lines of the house she’d found them for their honeymoon, maybe even visiting Lance’s family in Miami again, but open to other locations as well so long as they were safe and relaxing.  Lance, who had been given the day off, had been napping in their bed with Atlas when Shiro had left them there to come upstairs to his home office and make this call.  The three storey Edwardian in San Francisco had not been on his radar for this trip, but Abi’s idea was growing on him rapidly.</p>
<p>“Can you set it up as two master bedroom suites instead of the bunk bed staging?”  Shiro had seen a bunk bed configuration in that house before, and he knew it could be made to look appealing if he were trying to entice large groups to rent the house.  However, for this trip it would be nice to have the choice between the upper level suite with its many windows, or the lower level with its sunken terrace beneath the deck.</p>
<p><em>“Of course we can.”</em>  Shiro heard tapping noises as Abi consulted something on her computer.  <em>“I can email you the home staging company’s catalog if you’d like to make some selections yourself.”</em></p>
<p>“I appreciate that.”  </p>
<p>It would be more expedient to let Abi choose the setup, but it would ease the grumblings of Shiro’s inner alpha to see to Lance’s comfort himself, even if it was only in a small way like picking out a headboard.  He finished making arrangements with Abi and then used his own computer to reserve first class tickets and a rental car before rising from his desk and returning to the master bedroom.  Lance still appeared to be sleeping, but he stirred and murmured when Shiro sat down on the bed and touched his warm cheek.  Atlas raised his fluffy head over Lance’s shoulder to blink one blue eye at the intrusion before deciding that his nap time wasn’t over yet and sinking back down.</p>
<p>“I just booked us a trip for Valentine’s Day, how’s that sound honey?”</p>
<p>Lance shifted under the covers.  “Trip?”</p>
<p>“A babymoon,” Shiro said.  “Doctor Gorma suggested it.”</p>
<p>“Babymoon.”  Lance smiled without opening his eyes.  “S’funny.”</p>
<p>Shiro’s lips quirked up in response.  “It does sound funny, doesn’t it?  It’s supposed to be like a honeymoon for expectant parents.  At least, that’s how the doctor described it.”</p>
<p>“Mmm.”  Lance snuggled into his pillow.  “We should tell Keith.”</p>
<p>“We should?”  Shiro leaned over to examine his omega more carefully for possible signs of lingering anemia.  “How come?”</p>
<p>Lance’s eyes popped open wide.  “Forget I just said that.”</p>
<p>“No, now you have to explain it.”  Shiro lay down beside Lance, the better to take in his sheepish expression.</p>
<p>“Kf’s pregnt,” Lance mumbled into the covers.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, what was that?”  Shiro pushed the duvet away from Lance’s chin.  “Your voice was muffled.”</p>
<p>Lance’s chagrin was now permeating the bond sense.  “I said, Keith is pregnant.”</p>
<p>Shiro sat up.  “He is, really?”  This was almost as startling news as when Lance had told him that they themselves were going to be parents.  Shiro was going to be an older cousin!  Again.  Only this time he’d know about it.</p>
<p>Then Lance explained how he’d guessed and why he hadn’t told Keith’s news before.  “He’s probably not going to be able to hide it much longer though.”</p>
<p>“You know, maybe they could come on the babymoon with us,” Shiro said, running through logistics in his mind.  “We’re going to San Francisco, that’s a six hour drive from Los Angeles.  Less than two hours if I charter a jet for them.  The house we’re staying in, it used to be my grandmother’s.”  Shiro smoothed a hand over Lance’s shoulder as he listened intently.  “It’s a three storey with two full bedroom suites, there’s plenty of space for two couples to share.”</p>
<p>Shiro couldn’t think of a much more relaxing way to spend their babymoon than with good friends.  Lance’s family was great fun to be around, but relaxing was not the first word that came to mind to describe their company.  Shiro was going to have a houseful of their joyous cacophony come July, maybe he ought to send his neighbors fruit baskets thanking them in advance for their forbearance.  On the other hand, Keith could be surprisingly restful company for someone with such a vivid personality, and Hunk’s cheerful optimism would be lovely to have around at a time when it seemed that the world was conspiring to make Shiro worry.  Lance would benefit greatly from a visit with one of his closest friends, and Keith and Hunk would probably enjoy some recreation in the City by the Bay.  They might even be able to meet up with Allura and Shay while they were there.</p>
<p>Lance’s smile beamed out above the covers, his face flushed with more color than Shiro had seen in two days.  “I love that idea,” he said.  “Let’s do it!”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Hunk took Shiro’s call in his office and was glad he’d done so, as it seemed Lance had finally lost the battle of keeping Sunny a secret to his mate.  Keith’s checkride was scheduled for the following week, and then they could finally tell everybody that he was pregnant, but in the meantime they were still keeping mum.  Hunk planned on waiting in the room the flight school’s staff jokingly called ‘the officer’s lounge’ again.  If he half-closed his eyes and kept the Styrofoam cup mostly at arm’s length, he could pretend the cup was filled with hot cocoa and little marshmallows, instead of burnt coffee with dribs and drabs of half-melted powdered creamer floating in it.  Hunk hoped Keith hadn’t been drinking that stuff.  He tried to make sure he had a thermos of cinnamon cocoa with him when he went out the door, but their schedules didn’t always sync up ideally for him to do that.</p>
<p>Shiro suggested they share a vacation together on Valentine’s Day weekend.  Hunk’s fingers were flying across the keyboard of his computer checking schedules as Shiro was talking excitedly about this theoretical vacation.  A babymoon?  Hunk had heard of those before, Hina had cracked wise about going to Oahu during both of her pregnancies.  She’d just been kidding though; her kids’ father was a rut partner, not a serious boyfriend to take on a serious vacation.</p>
<p>Although, it was kind of hard to take the babymoon vacation idea seriously with that name.  Who had decided it should be called a babymoon?  Also, Valentine’s Day was usually fairly busy at the hotel, even more so when it fell on a weekend.  They still hadn’t found a permanent replacement for Farla, and they’d have to ask somebody to take in Kosmo.  They’d never had to board their good boy since they’d brought him home, he might not understand that they’d be coming back.</p>
<p>
  <em>“It would give Lance and Keith a chance to visit in person, I know it would mean a lot to them.”</em>
</p>
<p>There was no denying that Shiro was right on the money about that.  Hunk knew that Keith generally preferred staycations over vacations, but he also loved catching up with his friends.  Although he and Lance talked regularly, they hadn’t been in the same room together for many months.</p>
<p>“All right, let me see if I can work some magic with the schedules and I’ll call you back,” Hunk said.  “I do appreciate you inviting us along for this, Shiro.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Any time Hunk.”</em>
</p>
<p>Hunk and Keith did have plenty of family and friends who’d be willing to look after Kosmo for a few days.  Hunk had some vacation time hoarded up again, and it was past time that they found another omega services employee, especially since Keith would be going on a maternity leave that might turn into him leaving for other opportunities if his checkride went well.  Getting a vacation in first was starting to sound like a really good idea.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here marks the end of the fictional first trimester.  Updates may slow down a bit from here.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Month Four: Ray of Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Travels both planned and unplanned take place and the past is remembered as the second trimester begins.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again to everybody reading, and shout outs to Drowning_Slowly, PyroInfinite and luminiferousaether for commenting.  I am going to get into Charles's work a little bit because it ties directly into what Macidus has been up to.  But first, one request for omega cuddles coming right up.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Arranging for Kosmo’s dogsitting was as simple as putting it out there that there was a need.  They got offers from all corners to watch their good boy, including from Pidge, who it seemed was also in the know about Keith being pregnant.  As with most of the others who’d offered, Pidge’s dogsitting offer came with the caveat that Kosmo would have to be moved into her place for the duration; so when Krolia volunteered to move into the house temporarily instead she won the dogsitting job handily.  They did take Pidge up on her followup offer to take Kosmo to the dog park with her when she took Bae Bae, however.</p>
<p>So, the dogsitting situation was handled.  The work situation might prove a greater hurdle.  Hunk wasn’t too worried about his own time off, he knew that Nadia was up to the task and would welcome the challenge.  The main issue was that Ilun still hadn’t found a replacement for Farla, and the other omega services personnel were still being scheduled to cover her old shifts.  Ilun had been relying on hyper-competent Keith in particular to cover the night shifts.</p>
<p>The hotel prided itself on being able to attract and retain excellent service industry candidates, but Ilun might search for a month of Sundays and never find another Farla, and she was even fewer months away from losing a Keith in the bargain.  To tell her this would surely light a fire under her rear to maybe be a little more tolerant of some of the quirks in the candidates they’d brought in on probationary contracts.  They couldn’t all start off as unflappable as Farla, or be as fast on their feet as Keith had been from his very first night.  Some people had to ease into the role before they could prove that they could shine.  Ilun would take that speech a lot more seriously if she also knew that Keith was going on maternity leave in the summer, but Keith didn’t want to send out the announcements until after his checkride.</p>
<p>That event was just days away, and the day after that, an ultrasound that might yield a gender reveal.  Life was about to get even more interesting, and Hunk could hardly wait.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Outside of the cabin’s windows was nothing but snow, packed high on the ground and still falling.  Narti was on a schedule of shoveling every two hours until the flurry ended.  Acxa had the girls playing on the rug in the living room with the wood stove roaring and all the other rooms shut to conserve heat.  There was a good chance they’d be breaking out the sleeping bags to bed down in the living room together come nightfall.  One good thing about the weather, though: there was little chance of any surprise visits until Spring thaw.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“I don’t know, man.  She looks like a psychedelic ninja in that getup.”  </p>
<p>Rolo had been on board with the bodyguard idea until he’d learned that it was Ezor.  Nyma had been able to talk him around to giving her a chance.  But Nyma had to admit that he was right this time.  Ezor did look like a psychedelic ninja in that getup.</p>
<p>“Couldn’t you have picked a bodysuit that was less,” Nyma waved up and down at Ezor’s outfit, “purple?”</p>
<p>There was seriously a lot of purple going on.  Also, pink and blue.  But mostly purple.</p>
<p>“Nobody’s gonna take me seriously if I wear all black,” Ezor insisted.  “Only a real badass would wear this much color.”</p>
<p>“She’s kind of got a point,” said Lorn, who was back in the office for the time being.  It seemed that public service didn’t pay much at Mary Ann’s level, so she was rethinking whether she could afford a full-time omega in her life.</p>
<p>Rolo sighed and scratched his head.  “Hopefully the client agrees as well.  We’ll give it a shot, but no funny stuff Ezor.”</p>
<p>Ezor pouted.  “Nobody likes my jokes anyway.”</p>
<p>Zethrid liked Ezor’s jokes, but Nyma elected not to state that thought out loud.  Zethrid was still persona non grata until such a time as she finally showed up promising Ezor that as god was her witness she’d never turn tricks again.</p>
<p>“Here comes the client.”  Rolo peeked out the blinds to the parking lot below.  “Is Sandy ready?”</p>
<p>Nyma looked over her shoulder to where the omega in question was peering around the corner by the filing cabinet.  Sandy, not a talkative soul, was fond of wearing earth tones, which would draw the eye naturally to Ezor whenever they were standing next to each other.  This could have been intentional on Ezor’s part as bodyguard smoke and mirrors, but Nyma doubted it.  Good thing this alpha client was after an omega of the comfortable persuasion.  Sandy gave a thumbs up.</p>
<p>“They’re ready.”</p>
<p>Rolo grinned eagerly.  He loved this part, and it was kind of ridiculous and at the same time weirdly adorable to watch him get all excited about it.  “Then it’s show time.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lotor paced the floor in the solar room, cell phone to one ear, the other perked toward the baby monitor perched on top of a curio cabinet.  Saint wasn’t the only one who knew how to use those devices to keep tabs.  While he waited through several telecom forwards to direct him to the person he wanted to speak with, Lotor could hear Saint up in the nursery settling Sincline down for the evening.  At five months old, the infant was finally resting his little baby blues through most of the night.  He definitely had Lotor’s eyes.</p>
<p>Lotor’s wait was not uncomfortable, pacing notwithstanding.  The lounge had finally been finished, so Honerva’s incongruous decor choices had been moved in there and the solar was now properly outfitted with large, gothic pieces that Raiza had sourced through mysterious means.  Lotor wasn’t about to ask her, as he didn’t want his mother-in-law to feel obliged to stop assisting in this manner if her method of acquiring the pieces happened to be something she didn’t wish to confess.  He preferred Raiza’s decorating taste over his own mother’s.  If she was utilizing the black market, it could just be their little secret.</p>
<p><em>“Never expected to hear from you again.”</em>  Despite these words, Macidus sounded downright delighted to hear from Lotor again.  <em>“What’s a’matter, worried about Janka disappearing like a fart in the wind?”</em></p>
<p>“Not particularly,” Lotor admitted.  He rather suspected that his great grandfather-in-law had something to do with the fact that nobody knew the bookie’s whereabouts lately.</p>
<p><em>“Huh.”</em>  A thousand intimations in just one syllable.  <em>“Well what do you want?”</em></p>
<p>“I want to know how far you’ve come with your bone marrow experiments.”  Perhaps that was being specific for a phone conversation, but honestly the people most likely to be listening in were family members who should know that Lotor’s interests were only in the service of securing Sincline’s future.  Just because Lotor’s own fortunes had taken a turn didn’t mean the same had to become true for his chosen heir.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Why?”</em>
</p>
<p>Lotor stopped pacing and looked out of the solar windows at the thicket of dark trees edging across the property line.  “You theorized that the effects would be permanent if the receiving subject was the right age and the donor was closely enough related.”</p>
<p><em>“Yeah.”</em>  There was the noise of a door closing.  <em>“Prepubescent test subjects aren’t that easy to come by.  If the parents are rich enough to test them before presenting, then they’re rich enough to not want to give their little scions and alliance bait over to the likes of me.”</em></p>
<p>So Macidus was still utilizing his pool of mostly beta street urchins, who never fully converted to alpha or omega, always completely reverting back to their original secondary gender within weeks after the treatments.  Macidus was probably still harvesting from alpha and omega adult street people as well.  He’d been trying to perfect his serum as a party drug that would allow wealthy clients to temporarily experience what sex was like for other dynamics.  He believed that if he could pinpoint exactly which cells were responsible for the switch, then he could turn enough of them on and off to ensure an approximation of the sensory experience without the growing pains that accompanied real presentation.  Lotor found this to be a blinkered perspective of the potential applications of his research, even as he privately acknowledged that it must take someone with such a blinkered perspective to pursue such an ethically questionable line of scientific inquiry in the first place.</p>
<p>“Suppose you had an alpha sibling of a prepubescent test subject to work with.”</p>
<p><em>"Why you calling me now?"</em>  Macidus laughed.  <em>“Call me back in eight years.”</em></p>
<p>“Suppose a presented alpha sibling donated stem cells to an unpresented child.”  Lotor had come to realize that his mother was right on one point.  They were playing a numbers game, and he needed to stack the deck in Sincline’s favor any way he possibly could.  “Is it possible that the child’s development could be triggered toward alpha, even before the onset of puberty?”</p>
<p><em>“That’s the kind of risk I like,”</em> Macidus said, which gave Lotor a moment’s pause.  He was not doing this to put Sincline at risk.  <em>“Who’s the donor?”</em></p>
<p>“A teenager named Morgil who lives in Dutchess County New York.”  There was another, but he was less of an ideal target than young Morgil.  Lotor vaguely remembered the boy’s mother as a movie usher who liked to tell Lotor that he resembled a dark elf whenever he patronized her place of business and then took her behind the snack counter.  Apparently she’d tried to name their offspring after such a fictional creature, but she’d managed to misspell it on the birth certificate.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Crossing state lines will put the Feebs on me.”</em>
</p>
<p>It was hilarious that Macidus thought Lotor didn’t know he already did that routinely.</p>
<p>“If you can get the sample, I’ll make it worth your while.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“All right, Richie Rich.  If you’ve got time and money to burn on open-ended expense reports, I’ll see what I can do.”</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Maahox steepled his fingers thoughtfully as he listened on the tapped line to his great grandson-in-law negotiate terms with his L.A. based shark-of-all-trades.  Lotor’s heart was in the right place, but he was rushing into things, as was customary with the boy.  Whatever Macidus had come up with, Maahox was confident he could improve upon it, and with far less risk to his own great great grandchild.  He needed access to Macidus’s research, and he needed it before the other chemist managed to do something careless, like get his property seized by the FBI, who were looking into his business affairs more closely than he probably realized.  If Maahox could accomplish that, and a few other errands while he was out gallivanting, then he just might be able to buy the family more time to safeguard their legacy.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Mary Ann was dialing Colleen Holt on a secure line before she’d even taken off her headphone cans and put her bluetooth headpiece back on.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Holt here.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Druid is going to make a kidnapping attempt on one of LaPrince’s kids in New York state.”</p>
<p><em>“Holy– ”</em> There was a clattering sound as Colleen rushed to get online.  <em>“What for?”</em></p>
<p>“Some mad scientist shit,” Mary Ann said, checking her van’s security cams.  Still no movement from the ramshackle house that served as the base of Macidus’s operations.  No movement from the camper propped in the backyard either, which was strange.  Usually that tank of an alpha Zethrid was shuffling around in there by this hour.  “I think we should extract Aunt Queenie and get ready to move on Druid.”</p>
<p><em>“Tell me about the mad scientist shit first,”</em> Colleen demanded.</p>
<p>As Holt was her superior officer, Mary Ann was obliged to obey.  Underneath the van, a tank of an alpha crouched with a tin can against her ear, listening with widening eyes.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Ayako had placed Kuro in the back row again, but this time instead of disguising him, it called attention to his presence on his new team of three, as he would be framed between Bunta, a male beta, and Emma, a female alpha.  They didn’t start off framed that way, beginning the routine back to back like a three-pointed star with Bunta and Emma as the two ‘prongs’ facing the camera, before springing apart at the drum intro to the song that Ayako had chosen for them.  Kuro felt a little self-conscious, not just because he was dancing with upperclassmen but also because he alone had not brought a jacket to wear.  Bunta was wearing a full track suit with a knit beanie covering his head, while Emma wore her black track suit with the jacket open over her green crop top.  Kuro had on black joggers with a black tank top, which Ayako kept insisting was fine and that he didn’t need to cover himself.</p>
<p>Kuro skated his hair up into a top knot and secured it with a tie, noticing out of the corner of his eye that his bare neck had caught Emma’s attention but she was trying not to be obvious about it.  Both of his new teammates had been respectful so far, if a bit distant.  Bunta was rumored to be the son of someone famous, but if he was then he was trying to keep that information quiet and consequently he kept to himself.  Emma had a French father and a modeling contract, a loner more by difference than by choice.  As for Kuro, he’d made a few casual friends in Nichibu Club, a club dominated by omega students because it was the only club that welcomed them with an open hand, but his bodyguards tended to scare away overly friendly types, so he fit right in with this dance team.</p>
<p>This video shoot was different than previous ones in ways that went beyond the new team.  Usually they’d be lucky to get in a last rehearsal in the hallway before shooting started, but this time they’d not only had a dress rehearsal, they’d had blocking, lighting and framing sessions as well.  They were usually surrounded by classmates cheering them on for their single take, before having to clear out of the way for the next team.  This time, it was just them, Ayako and the camera crew.  Maybe it was because this time Ayako had choreographed the entire song for them, and not just three bars like she did for most of the teams she coached.</p>
<p>Ayako finished conferring with the cameraman and turned to the team, who’d been milling about drinking bottled water.  “Are we ready for our first take?”</p>
<p>First take?  The reason they had this studio booked all day was not that another team might be joining them later, but to film multiple takes?</p>
<p>“We’re ready,” Emma said.  She was the team captain, so it was her prerogative to make that judgment.  “Everyone form up.”</p>
<p>They stood back to back ready for their cue.  Ayako had selected a song Kuro had never heard before this assignment, saying it was from the golden age of hip hop.  The drums opened the track and the three dancers exploded into motion.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  Mirror mirror on the wall, tell me mirror, what is wrong?  ♬</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>For his checkride, Keith was back in the good old Cessna 172, flying out of Bob Hope airport with CFI Stride in the copilot’s seat.  Stride had come up with a scenario that Keith was going to role-play during the flight, and Keith wouldn’t know what that scenario was until Stride sprang it on him.  He had to put on frosted training glasses to artificially restrict his vision before take-off.  He thought Stride was going easy on him, until he realized all the questions were actually Stride’s attempts to distract him.  A normal flight under IFR could potentially have deadly distractions, so Keith doubled down on his focus.</p>
<p>He kept track of his instruments and his checklists, knowing that when Stride asked him what this, that or the other thing was, he was looking to see if Keith took his eyes away from those instruments, or worse, leaned his body toward whatever Stride was pointing out.  They weren’t flying very far.  The main issue was keeping track of where the plane was when he couldn’t just orient himself by looking out of a window.  Another significant challenge was staying on task when Stride seemed intent on being the physical embodiment of havoc.  Keith had to juggle talking to ATC with having Stride talking in his other ear, modifying ATC’s instructions to maintain the simulated inclement weather conditions.</p>
<p>Aviate, navigate and communicate kept running through Keith’s mind like a mantra as he tried to stay on top of everything going on in the cockpit.  He didn’t normally like having the iPad on the copilot’s yoke mount, preferring a suction mount over the glare shield for this model of plane.  But for IFR he could admit it was an efficient placement, as it kept his eye line closer to the dash.</p>
<p>“Uh oh.”  Stride reached forward and powered the iPad off.  “Aliens just destroyed all satellites and cell phone towers all over the world!  Now your iPad isn’t good for anything but playing Angry Birds.  Whatcha gonna do?”</p>
<p>Keith fished the pen out of the holder on his kneeboard and heroically clicked it.  “I’m going to use my notes and my Six Pack.”</p>
<p>Stride nodded and scribbled notes on his own logbook.  “All right.”</p>
<p>Keith pushed all thoughts of whatever Stride might be writing in his logbook out of his mind.  Aviate, navigate, communicate, and think ahead of the airplane.  Stride threw a couple more challenges at him, including calculating a new approach longhand after a missed approach.  Finally the landing gear kissed the ground and Keith drove to the hangar where the flight school stored their training planes.  There he sat nervously waiting while Stride scribbled in his logbook again.</p>
<p>“Well Kogane,” Stride finally said, holding the logbook up so that Keith could see his scores.  “Your situational awareness was on point today.  You passed your checkride, tiger.  You going to Disneyland?”</p>
<p>Keith’s grin felt big enough to encompass the whole sky.  “Thank you sir, and no sir, I’m going to San Francisco.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“What is it about him?” Saburo wondered aloud.  The view outside of the windows was of street lights.  Matters that concerned the school’s public image were worthy of remaining behind after hours.</p>
<p>Ayako sat with Director Saburo in his office watching the trio again on playback.  The video had not been posted yet, but when it was, Ayako knew that it would go viral.  Emma went hard, while Bunta was as precise as a Citizen watch.  In between them, young Kuro had obviously not benefited from the same degree of training that his teammates had, but there was something about him that drew the eye regardless.  Something beyond his obvious physical beauty. </p>
<p>“I believe it is his musicality.”  Ayako was justifiably proud of her find.  “He is a natural.”  Some of his natural affinity for the texture of the song had even made it into Ayako’s final choreography.</p>
<p>“It would seem so,” Saburo agreed.  “Do they know that they’re auditioning for spots in the study abroad program?”</p>
<p>Selections for the study abroad program were important.  Those students represented the school to the global dance community.  They attracted all sorts of positive attention to the school, from talent scouts to respected instructors, to the quality of exchange students they received from their partners in the program.</p>
<p>“Saburo-sensei, I chose not to tell them, fearing it would affect their performances for the worse,” Ayako admitted.  “I believe that Emma-san suspects, however.”</p>
<p>Saburo made a noncommittal noise.  It was no secret that Emma hoped to transition her vocational education into a university degree, and the study abroad program had an affiliation with a university in Boston that could get her there.  As for Bunta, he would probably welcome the opportunity to prove his abilities among people who would not have heard of his mother, or if they had heard of her, wouldn’t make assumptions about him based only on her accomplishments.  Perhaps their partner in Melbourne, Australia would be the best place for him to test his merits.  That was assuming Ayako’s team made the cut, but she was confident that they would.</p>
<p>“What of young Kuro-kun?” Saburo asked.  “Finding space in the omega dorms of our study abroad partners has been an issue in the past.”</p>
<p>Most of their study abroad partners did not operate on the same academic calendar as they did, so on the few previous occasions that an omega student had won a spot, they’d had to rely on the coincidence of a freshman moving out of the partner’s omega dorm mid-semester and thereby making room for their exchange student.  This was not a terribly reliable method of securing overseas lodging for an omega student, and it was down to luck that it had worked out for them so far.  However, in Kuro’s case they might not have to worry about that at all.  “Kuro-kun has an older brother who lives in Manhattan.”</p>
<p>“Staying with his oni-san could be very convenient for everyone if Kuro-kun is able to impress the admissions officer with our partner in New York City.”  Saburo folded his hands on the desk.  “Do you think that Kuro-kun’s brother and mother would agree to this arrangement?”</p>
<p>“I intend to speak with Kuro-kun’s mother about it at the earliest opportunity, Saburo-sensei.”</p>
<p>Ayako knew that she’d have to move fast if she wanted to cut off the ambitions of that idol scout who’d been skulking about on campus recently.  She wasn’t sure which group he was recruiting for this time, but she found his methods creepy enough to earn her suspicion.  She knew that her pupils could go far, and would prefer to see that happen through the result of strictly honorable actions.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <strong>“Thank you senpai.”</strong>
</p>
<p>The adorable chorus was followed by bows as the beginner’s class showed their respect to Shiro for teaching them the day’s lesson.  Shiro watched their parents collect them, still feeling wonderstruck.  He’d taught his first class at the dojo.  One day soon, a tiny human just like one of those would be looking up to him.  He wasn’t sure he was ready, but then he hadn’t been sure he was ready to teach a class, and he’d just done that anyway.</p>
<p>Tetsuya stepped up next to him with a smile.  “You have taken a fresh step toward new possibilities.”</p>
<p>“I only taught one class,” Shiro said self-consciously.  The sandan who usually taught the little ones had been caught in a traffic jam, so Shiro had stepped in to ensure that neither the children nor any other class whose instructor might have moved to cover it did not miss out on any of their scheduled time.  That didn’t mean he felt qualified to do it on a regular basis.</p>
<p>Tetsuya merely raised an eyebrow.  “It is still a beginning.  Join me in my office, won’t you?  There is a matter that we should discuss.”</p>
<p>Shiro caught Tetsuya’s quick glance across the mats to where Lance had gratefully dropped into a meditation pose with the rest of his cohort.  His back had been bothering him a bit lately, so Shiro had an idea of what this conversation might be about.  He followed Tetsuya down a hall into a lamplit office crowded with certificates, trophies, pictures of students and teachers past and present, and knick knacks that students had given him over the years.  Tetsuya invited Shiro to take the guest chair as he dropped into his own tape-patched task chair.</p>
<p>“I wish to speak with you about Lance’s training,” Tetsuya said.</p>
<p>Shiro nodded.  “I had a feeling you might.  Lance will be disappointed if he can’t continue practicing his katas, but he’ll understand if it comes from you.”</p>
<p>“He is nearing a point in his pregnancy where his balance and flexibility will be affected, which could cause him to pick up compensating habits which would be detrimental to his forms,” Tetsuya said.  “Lance has excellent hand-to-eye coordination, but at his current level of training, compensating habits could be more difficult to overcome than if he simply took a break from kata, which is why I would like to introduce him to bōjutsu instead.”</p>
<p>“Working with the bo staff?”  Shiro was honestly surprised.  “If his balance is off, won’t that still present a problem?”</p>
<p>“The bo staff will help him with his balance, and this would not be a bad time for him to begin familiarizing himself with it,” Tetsuya said calmly.  “All forms of kobudō must start slowly and with patient care.  He would not be learning combinations for quite some time, this would just be for getting him comfortable with the feel of the bō in his hands.”</p>
<p>So Shiro signed the waivers allowing Lance to take a test lesson using one of the school’s ultra light bo staffs, and accepted a list of suggested brands should Lance decide to get a bo staff of his own.  It was just one test lesson.  Lance might not even like it.  Then Shiro could probably talk him into taking Pilates together at the gym.  It was just one lesson, right?</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Pidge was in the student union picking at a lunch of spicy noodles while studying for a Physics quiz when her laptop bubbled up an alert about Kuro’s latest dance video.  What a perfect time for a study break!  Pidge clicked open the browser window.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  Play it now  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>Wowza.  Pidge was vaguely aware there were two other dancers in the video, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of Kuro.  The way his limbs moved in rhythmic patterns, it was ensorceling.  It was mesmerizing.  It was goddamn hot is what it was.</p>
<p>She scrolled down to the comments section to add her cheer of encouragement and congratulations.  There it became clear that she wasn’t the only one who thought there was something special about Kuro.  She was still around a level three proficiency on the three Japanese alphabets, but she understood well enough to see that these commenters weren’t aiming for sparkly sonnets.  </p>
<p>It seemed that thirst was a universal language.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Still flush off the success of finally getting his IFR rating, Keith was in a good mood as he lay on the exam table with Hunk on one side of him and Nurse Ware on the other, while Doctor Page examined the scans on the monitor.  It didn’t hurt that today’s sonogram was the transabdominal type this time, either, even though he had to endure the discomfort of a full bladder.  The reason he was getting an early anatomy scan was because all first pregnancies of male omegas were classified as high risk, but he couldn’t even be bothered to get scared remembering that.  On the monitor, Sunny shifted and made a facial expression that looked like a yawn in full profile, with two little hands drifting near a little mouth, and two little feet drumming idly in the dark.  Sunny’s heartbeat burst from the Doppler, strong as thunder.</p>
<p>“Your fetus is 8.89 centimeters from crown to rump,” Doctor Page said, sounding pleased about it.  “That’s on the large side for fetal age, but it doesn’t look crowded in there just yet.  Let’s have a better look at the placenta with 3D.”</p>
<p>Instantly Sunny’s features went from translucent to nearly fully-realized as the image changed to show the pup curled under a petal-like structure.  The 3D imaging made everything look more solid, but strangely waxy at the same time.</p>
<p>“Looks like we have posterior placement of the placenta in the uterus,” Doctor Page said.  “Your fetus appears to be developing normally.”</p>
<p>“That’s great news, Doctor Page,” said Hunk as he squeezed Keith’s hand.</p>
<p>“It’s news I’m happy to deliver,” said the doctor.  “Would you like to make a try for seeing the primary gender?”</p>
<p>Hunk looked down at Keith with bright brown eyes.  “What do you think?”</p>
<p>“Let’s go ahead and try,” Keith said.  “We could get a head start at finding out which names we need to have a counter argument ready for.”</p>
<p>Hunk laughed, and Nurse Ware smiled as he moved the transducer over Keith’s jelly-covered stomach, trying to get a clear image from underneath of Sunny, who squirmed on the monitor before the nurse finally was able to focus in on what looked to Keith like a nubby protrusion.</p>
<p>“There you are,” said Nurse Ware, making micro adjustments to the image so that the nub was rendered in slightly greater detail.  “That says baby boy to me, do you agree Doctor?”</p>
<p>“I do,” said Doctor Page.  “Accuracy rate via sonographic image is over ninety percent at this fetal age, so while I feel duty bound to advise you not to plan your gender reveal party until after your morphology scan, I also feel confident that scan will bear out Nurse Ware’s assessment.  It’s a boy.”</p>
<p>“Sunny is our son,” Hunk said wonderingly, making Keith laugh.</p>
<p>“Congratulations,” said Nurse Ware.</p>
<p>Keith clutched Hunk’s hand close to his heart.  “Let’s don’t name him after grandpeople.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry babe.”  Hunk kissed his temple.  “We’ll find Sunny the best name that’s just right for him, I know it.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“I would like to present to you an offer.”</p>
<p>Kalon had invited Lance into his office after his last shift of the week.  He had only four more shifts scheduled before the babymoon, and when he came back, he was taking his licensing exams.</p>
<p>“You do not have to feel obligated to accept,” Kalon went on.</p>
<p>“I’m all ears, sir,” Lance said.</p>
<p>Kalon smiled at the mix of formalities in Lance’s speech.  “I have every confidence in you as a henna colorist for hair, and in your ability to mix mehndi to the FDA’s exacting regulations.  I would like to continue training you in the art of mehndi application, at your discretion of course, as I see that you are now starting a family.”</p>
<p>Lance accepted his mentor’s nod of congratulations with a smile.  “I’m honored that you offered.  What would I need to do?”</p>
<p>“I would simply ask for your assistance on outside assignments in which I am hired to apply art, usually for brides on their henna nights.  You can help me as you watch and learn, and I will share a percentage of my fee with you in turn.”</p>
<p>They hashed out the details and Lance left the meeting with the warm knowledge that even though other aspects of his life were changing fast, he could continue to learn from his trusted mentor for some time into the future.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Nyma had thought the days of coming home to find Ezor and Zethrid making out in her bed were over, but alas, it was not to be so.  “Seriously, what the hell?”</p>
<p>“Hey.”  Zethrid looked over Ezor’s shoulder at Nyma standing in the doorway.  “I found out Macidus is a wackadoodle and he’s gonna get raided soon.  Can I crash at your place?”</p>
<p>Nyma groaned in resignation, then went back outside to go and ask the motel office for a roll-away bed.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro generally enjoyed having friends drop in on him.  Even with Lance’s new tendency to take the stairs with one hand on his back, it was still pleasant taking tea in the front parlor with old friends, especially when those friends were as enjoyably clever company as Curtis and Adam were.  However, when the reason for their unplanned visit was sprung upon them, things became a bit more fraught.  It seemed that a gossip blogger had heard about Lance fainting at the student salon and proceeded to publish the source’s speculation as if it were fact.  Curtis in particular had been concerned enough to want to make sure Shiro knew that this blogger had taken aim at his family.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>*Shirogane makes his omega work while carrying his child! Our source says the poor omega was dead on his feet as he slaved his lovely fingers to the bone washing hair in TriBeCa! He’s the man our mothers warned us about, dear readers!*<br/>♡And remember you heard it here first sweeties!♡</p>
</blockquote><p>Lance jumped up off the loveseat, incandescent with rage.  “I will snatch that woman by the hank of hair and swing her around like a yo-yo!”</p>
<p>“Honey please sit down, you’re making me nervous.”  Shiro stood and gently tried to lower Lance back onto the loveseat as Curtis stared in apprehension and Adam clearly tried not to laugh.  Curtis still didn’t seem to know what to make of Lance’s antics, but Adam apparently found amusement in them.</p>
<p>Also, Adam didn’t like Jain Rao, the most probable suspect as ‘the source’ this blogger had relied upon for the post.  Nobody really liked Jain all that much.  The real estate attorney somehow managed to make herself a thorn in many more sides than one would think prudent for practicing a trade that relied on good word of mouth.  Rumor had it she was aiming for a run at the City Council where she could gain the power to twist the thorns in all the sides.  She was a Yale-educated and high society connected alpha who’d decided early in her career that she’d rather be feared than loved, and conducted all of her affairs with that end in mind.</p>
<p>“If I can’t slap back at the gossip blogger, then I’ll just have to make do with the Empress.”  Lance relented to Shiro’s coddling, sitting back against the pillows piled up behind him.  “It’s obvious she was the one who told the blogger about the dizzy spell.  Nobody else would have said that about my fingers.”</p>
<p>“The Empress?”  Adam leaned forward across the coffee table, intrigued.</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s what everybody calls her at Oriande,” Lance smirked.  “She always rolls in asking for an omega shampooer for her full blowout.”</p>
<p>Adam laughed.  Curtis winced, and Shiro was right there with him.  Jain’s special request sounded downright creepy.</p>
<p>“My mother likes to call her the Queen of the ninth circle,” Adam said.  “She’d always insist that I personally make the beauty products she special ordered from the apothecary.”  He rolled his eyes.  “It was usually Mama who made them, and she never knew the difference.”</p>
<p>Adam had left his post at his family’s apothecary to join Curtis in business as an antiques dealer specializing in fine art.  With Adam’s help, Curtis had been able to expand the art styles he was able to knowledgeably acquire for clients, thus growing his business.  Shiro wondered what unlucky soul was shampooing Jain’s hair or making her beauty products now, and as he met eyes with Curtis across the coffee table realized that both of them were just relieved there was no longer any chance it would be Lance or Adam.</p>
<p>“It’s a pity the blogger never shows more than a tattoo to identify themselves,” Adam said.  “You can’t even tell what body part it’s on, the picture is so close-up.”</p>
<p>They all looked at their phones, thumbing over to the blogger’s winky bio, which carefully revealed only enough to prove that whoever it was, they had to be a socialite, or at least have access to one.  The only picture was an extreme close-up of an orangey-yellow polygonal tattoo on fair skin next to a hint of crease, as if daring the viewer to guess who the blogger was.  Really, that hint of crease could be anywhere on the human body.  It could be butt cleavage, it could be breast cleavage, it could be an elbow, that’s how close-up it was.  At least, for the casual viewer.</p>
<p>Shiro recognized it instantly.  “I know that armpit.”</p>
<p>“It’s an armpit?”  Adam made a face.</p>
<p>“Who is it?” Curtis asked.</p>
<p>Shiro frowned.  “It’s Amue Herakles.”  She was one of the ex-paramours who’d refused to take his call when he’d done his apology rounds after discovering that Lotor had been pirating his little black book.  She was also one of the ones he’d thought about sending a fruit basket, and then decided that would be too intrusive.  Perhaps he should have just sent the fruit basket anyway.</p>
<p>“What’s that tattoo supposed to be?” Lance asked, as Curtis and Adam watched on in interest, probably wondering why he wasn’t blowing up in righteous fury that Shiro recognized a close-up of an ex’s armpit cleavage.</p>
<p>“It’s a symbol taken from her family’s heraldry,” Shiro shrugged.  Amue had made it tiny to make it easier to hide under clothes, but that also had the effect of rendering its inked lines less sharply delineated.</p>
<p>“It looks like a wedge of cheese,” Lance said, making Adam laugh again.</p>
<p>Shiro smiled in spite of the fact that he now had to figure out how to get this well-connected woman scorned to leave his omega out of her personal beef with him.  “I see what you mean.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Antor lived in a beautifully ornate building from the Great Gatsby era, though he’d assured Omnia on the night when she’d lost all leave of her common sense that the inside of the building was no longer up to a Gold Coast millionaire’s standards.  They’d had a nightcap conversation when Omnia drove him home, and then they’d gone on to her place at his insistence that they’d be more comfortable there.  Now that she was inside the building, she could see that he’d simply been telling her the plain truth.  The apartment, which actually wasn’t Antor’s, was supposedly a two bedroom.  The one Antor had been staying in was surely an illegal ‘flex’ room.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” he said for, what was it, the third time?  “When I broke up with my old lady I had to move out in a hurry.  I was really lucky my old buddy Vrek had an extra room, otherwise I’d probably be taking the ferry over from Staten Island every day.”</p>
<p>The aforementioned Vrek raised his coffee cup in salute from the dinette table in front of the fire escape window.  He’d offered her a cup when he’d let her in, and she had politely declined.  Even if she hadn’t been pregnant, she would have refused based on the grassy smell alone.  She felt her bile rising at the reminder.</p>
<p>“Oh God.”  No no no, not here, not now.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?”  Antor looked so concerned, and so young.  Poor baby.</p>
<p><em>She was having a baby with a baby</em>.  “Need a bathroom.”</p>
<p>“Take a right in the hall and then it’s the first left,” said Vrek.  Bless him.  Except no, curse him for his terrible smelling coffee.</p>
<p>Omnia darted around the two corners with her hands over her mouth.  She barely registered that their itty bitty bathroom was relatively clean for one used and maintained by a couple of young bachelors before she was messing it up.</p>
<p>“Whoa!”  Both of the men who lived there had followed her down the narrow hall and now hovered in the bathroom doorway.  It was Vrek who had spoken; Antor was too busy looking like he was having a horrifying epiphany.  “You pregnant doll?” asked Vrek.</p>
<p>Omnia barfed again.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“I was surprised to get your invitation.”  Amue played with the straw in her iced soy latte, eyes hidden behind polarized sunglasses, but her body language betrayed her true level of interest.  One leather-jacketed elbow on the table so that she could lean closer to Shiro, high-heeled boots crossed under the table at a slant that was meant to make her legs look longer, she was definitely not feeling indifferent about the proceedings.  “Surprised but intrigued.”</p>
<p>“As I said before, I wish to personally convey my apologies for introducing you to Lotor Manigford.”  Shiro cupped his hot espresso in gloved hands, leaning back in his chair to create a little distance.  His eyes, too, were disguised by sunshades, though his were not polarized.  A coffee invitation had seemed the most innocuous of gestures, and the outdoor café in the shadow of an old Gothic church had seemed the best possible venue to assure that his actions were not taken the wrong way.  “It was never my intention to expose you to any unwanted advances.”</p>
<p>At the very least, he hoped the cold would discourage any shenanigans on her part.</p>
<p>Amue’s lips twisted in distaste.  “Yes, well, a lady never likes to waste her time.”</p>
<p>This demonstrated a quality of Amue’s which had initially drawn Shiro in and ultimately repelled him.  She could be incredibly candid without ever coming across as if she were playacting, which Shiro had appreciated during their brief dalliance.  He’d always been more attracted to shoot-from-the-hip types.  Then she’d go and do or say something that revealed priorities which were so alien to his own as to make him wonder what planet she’d beamed down from.  Surely she couldn’t be from Earth.</p>
<p>But since she was interested in brevity, Shiro would oblige her.  “Whatever issues you and I may have had in the past, I would like to leave them in the past.”</p>
<p>Amue’s arm position on the table took on a shoulder-forward posture imitative of an alpha dominance display.  “Since you’ve left the lover you left me flat for, I would argue that our issues are now in the past.”</p>
<p>Left her?  Shiro felt an icy prickle of warning travel down his back.  “Amue, we were never exclusive.”</p>
<p>Amue’s jaw clenched.  “How easy for you to say now that you’re married with an heir on the way.”</p>
<p>Shiro was aghast.  Surely he couldn’t have missed clues with her the way that he’d missed them with Lance once upon a time?  He’d only gone on three dates with her and slept with her a grand total of twice over the course of a two week period.  How could he have missed a relationship-defining moment in that amount of time?  He hadn’t even given her any gifts, much less anything traditionally associated with betrothals!</p>
<p>“I thought that perhaps you were coming to your senses,” Amue went on.  “I was prepared to be the other woman for however long it took for you to extricate yourself without losing half your fortune.  I was even prepared to adopt your firstborn.  But you’re still charging about clueless.”</p>
<p>No, Shiro realized.  He had not been clueless after all.  “Whatever happened between you and I stays between you and I,” he said.  “Leave my omega out of it.”</p>
<p>Amue then had the temerity to smile toothily at him.  “I have no idea what you mean.”</p>
<p>“I’m not kidding Amue.”  Now Shiro leaned across the table, one second away from a real alpha dominance display.  “Keep your cheesy armpits away from Lance.”</p>
<p>Amue’s mouth dropped open in offense as she launched herself out of her chair.  “How dare you!”  She tried to throw the soy latte at him, but the lid was still on tight so it only sloshed out around the straw hole.  “My armpits are not cheesy!”  She said the last at full volume and threw the still mostly full latte down on the concrete, where the lid finally popped off, creating a coffee puddle that would freeze to the pavement if left untended for too long.  Off she strode on those skyscraper-heeled boots at a New York clip of indignation.</p>
<p>Shiro turned to flag the waiter.  He intended on paying for the coffees, both the frozen mess she’d wasted and the espresso he intended on finishing, and he also wanted to leave a large tip to account for her tantrum.  That was when he noticed that his attempt to come to terms with Amue Herakles had attracted a small audience of other people braving the cold for a coffee fix.  What did a man have to do to keep his personal business out of the gossip columns?</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Amue reached into her refrigerator, but not for a trusty bottle of Chardonnay.  This was an occasion that called for the box of Sauvignon Blanc.  She hefted it out onto her kitchen island and opened the tap to fill an oversized wine glass.  She couldn’t believe she’d put herself out there for Shirogane again, and all he’d wanted to talk about was making amends.  The absolute brass-balled nerve of the man!</p>
<p>After two glasses and a good start on a third, Amue was finally starting to feel mellow enough to post her latest misadventure to her blog.  How to make it not sound like it was her even though there were witnesses?  She should have worn a hat.  Or a wig.  Or a wig with a hat.  Maybe she could give herself an alias!  An awesome alias that she could use in future posts.</p>
<p>She could call herself Princess; but no, then what would she name her cat when she eventually got one?  Oh!  She could call herself Polluxia.  Yes, that sounded good.  She reflexively checked for any recent request posts on the blog, a habit whenever she logged in to write a featured post.  It was always good to keep tabs on which sacred cows the people wanted her to serve up next.</p>
<p><strong>Socity Princess</strong>: 13 minutes ago<br/>so wld luv if u wld writ a post abot Amue Hercules!!! herd she has a fungal in her ampit!!<br/>♥49 likes</p>
<p>Amue’s shrill scream sent pigeons scattering far below her window over Central Park.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith and Hunk had offered Krolia their bedroom to stay in for the long weekend, but when she came over and saw that they still had the daybed set up in the guest room she decided to take that room instead.</p>
<p>“Sweetheart, do you need help setting up your nursery?”  Krolia set her suitcase down next to the daybed as she looked around the room, which still mostly resembled a home office.  “I can help you shop for some furniture when you get back, if you’d like.”</p>
<p>“I would like that,” Keith admitted.  “We’ve been waiting to find out the primary gender before we start decorating.”  That was a bluff.  Neither of them intended to base the decorating scheme on pink or blue, and both had decided not to mention their tentative gender reveal until after the morphological exam.  Mostly because they knew that the sooner the moms knew the gender for sure, the sooner they’d have to deal with renewed attempts to name Sunny something neither of them wanted to look forward to yelling out of the screen door when it was time to call their child in for dinner.</p>
<p>Krolia gave her own child a flat look that said she saw through that excuse but she was going to grant him mercy this one time.  “You don’t need to know the primary gender to pick out a crib and a diaper changing table.”</p>
<p>“I guess I kind of knew that.”  Keith flushed.  “I’ve never had a kid before.”</p>
<p>Krolia caught him up in one arm and scented the side of his face.  “I’ll be here to help you figure it all out.”</p>
<p>He knew she would, and he was so grateful for it.  “Thanks Mom.”  But he still didn’t want to name his pup Yorak.</p>
<p>They took some time to give Kosmo all the pets and loves before loading up the Toyota Corolla so that Krolia could drive them to the airport.  She was going to be using Keith’s car while he and Hunk were in San Francisco.  Shiro had chartered them a light jet flying out of Santa Monica, but when they drove up to the private hangar where that jet was waiting they were in for another surprise.</p>
<p>“Ginger?”  Keith left Hunk sorting the luggage out of the trunk to go and greet his friend on the tarmac.</p>
<p>“Hey Keith.”  Ginger looked sharp in a short-sleeved button-down with striped epaulets and a tie, her blonde hair secured underneath a cap with the charter company’s logo on it.  “Have you ever flown in a HondaJet before?”</p>
<p>Keith took in the aircraft parked on the apron behind her with its exterior red trim, pretty as a cardinal.  “No.”</p>
<p>Ginger grinned.  “How would you feel about riding shotgun?”</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>It turned out that Ginger worked for a charter company that Shiro contracted with whenever he was in the area.  When he called to arrange their travel and found out that Ginger knew Keith from flight school, they got to talking and concocted a plan so that Keith could experience the cockpit of a jet without breaking any laws, since the HondaJet had a copilot’s seat but could be flown by a single pilot.  Keith would essentially just be a front seat riding passenger, unable to accrue dual flight hours from the experience, but it would still be more fun for him than eating caviar in the aircraft cabin would have been.  Hunk went along with this plan in his inimitable easygoing way, content to take a nap in the aircraft cabin for the hour and a half flight’s duration.</p>
<p>Keith put the copilot’s headset on and sat down in front of the Garmin flight deck.  As he watched Ginger skillfully run through her checklist and listened to her talking to ATC, he felt the familiar thrill of flight begin to take hold.  Even though he wouldn’t be doing any of the actual piloting, this was still a rocking way to travel.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>This time when Lance flew first class at Shiro’s side he had Global Entry too, so they were expediently ushered through the TSA Pre-Check at the airport until the now-expected song and dance with Shiro’s medical implants at the metal detector.  But before he knew it, Lance was in a plush window seat on a 737 and a flight attendant was serving him a late breakfast of scrambled eggs with Yukon potato frites, and Shiro’s eyebrow only twitched a little bit when he smothered them in ketchup.  Then Lance promptly fell asleep and didn’t wake until Shiro gently shook his shoulder while the flight attendant was making the landing announcement.  The airport’s concierge sent someone to meet them at the gate with their checked luggage already loaded onto a cart, and away they strolled to catch the AirTrain’s Blue Line to the Rental Car Center.</p>
<p>
  <em>Train arriving.  Please stand clear of the doors.</em>
</p>
<p>The small train was fully automated, and standing room only except for bench seats at either end of the car.  As they boarded with their luggage cart, a beta woman who had been scrolling through her phone on one of the seats noticed Lance and stood up to wave him over.</p>
<p>“Thank you.”  Shiro was quicker on the ball this time, and the woman smiled and nodded as she stepped over to hold onto one of the stanchions.  Lance made an effort to be gracious as well, but privately he was a little taken aback.  This was honestly the first time he’d been treated like a pregnant person by a stranger.  He hadn’t bought any maternity clothes yet, how much was he really showing?</p>
<p>
  <em>Doors closing.  Please hold on.</em>
</p>
<p>Lance sat, and the people mover smoothly rolled out on its track.  Outside of the windows, he watched as the train wove in between disembarkation points and a hilly NoCal panorama under cloudy skies.  Eventually the train pulled up between two buildings.  Silhouettes of people waiting with their luggage were visible through the shaded glass.</p>
<p>
  <em>Rental Car Center.  Please Exit.</em>
</p>
<p>A representative from the airport’s butler service met them inside the Rental Car Center and helped them unload the luggage cart and carry the luggage up the escalator to the third floor.  Shiro had club access through one of the agencies that occupied that floor, and in short order the airport butler was helping them load up a luxury class SUV with a metallic silver paint job.</p>
<p>“Volvo, huh?” Lance asked as Shiro handed him up into the passenger’s seat.</p>
<p>“They’re boxy but they’re good,” Shiro quoted with a completely straight face as he closed his spouse into the vehicle.</p>
<p>They took an access road to a familiar FBO facility.  It looked a little different in the daytime; less magical, more functional.  As the Volvo cruised past the window walls alongside one of the passenger lounges, a familiar head of wild black hair rose from a chair as its owner headed for the automatic doors.  Lance had his seat-belt undone before Shiro could say, “Lance!”</p>
<p>“Keith is coming over here.”  Lance helpfully pointed out where Keith had emerged onto the sidewalk and was headed their way.</p>
<p>“Just let me come to a complete stop before you start unbuckling things,” Shiro griped.</p>
<p>“You’re going like, two miles an hour.”</p>
<p>Before their conversation could devolve into ‘me Tarzan you pregnant’ Keith was knocking on Lance’s window because Shiro had indeed rolled to a complete stop.  Lance opened his door and tottered down from the seat.</p>
<p>“Keith!”  He launched himself at his friend like a toddler wanting to pet a kitty cat.</p>
<p>“Hey you.”  </p>
<p>Keith accepted the hug with good grace.  Lance hadn’t spotted his bump at first sight, but now that they were embracing each other he could feel it bumping up against his own.  They swayed together for a second until Lance leaned back to take in the full effect of Keith’s hair again.  It was thicker and shinier, and falling past his shoulders.</p>
<p>“You’re getting the glow,” Lance said, touching a lock of black hair curling over Keith’s chest.</p>
<p>“You mean the hair?”  Keith pulled a face.  “It’s getting to the point where I might as well throw it in a ponytail, it just grows back like a weed when I cut it.”</p>
<p>“Pretty weeds,” Lance declared.  Pretty like wildflowers.</p>
<p>He couldn’t wait to get his hands on that head of hair.  Maybe Keith would let him do a fishtail braid and put it on instagram.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith wasn’t in the lounge when Hunk came in with their luggage on a cart.  Ginger had helped Hunk unload the hold, explaining to Keith that she couldn’t allow pregnant passengers to lift anything heavier than twenty pounds due to company policy.  Keith hadn’t been thrilled about it, but he’d agreed to wait.  Hunk knew if their situations had been reversed he’d have been checking out the complimentary tea bar situation, but he wasn’t all that surprised to discover that Keith had found something a little more adventuresome to occupy his time.  A nod and a smile from the lady behind the information desk had reassured Hunk as to which direction to start looking.</p>
<p>He didn’t have to look far.  Keith and Lance stood together near the curb beside a silver Volvo.  A glimpse of silver hair through the rear windshield revealed Shiro behind the wheel, probably wondering if he should go find a parking space or stay close by the two omegas.  This afforded Hunk a rare opportunity to walk towards them unnoticed.  Omegas had high situational awareness as a general rule, and Keith had the highest of anyone Hunk had ever met, but right that minute he had a fast-talking distraction.</p>
<p>Lance was holding forth about something in his usual animated style.  Whatever they were talking about, it had both omegas laughing.  Hunk found himself cataloging possible signs of Lance’s pregnancy to compare to Keith’s, given how close they were in gestation time.  Lance’s skin and hair looked satiny, but that wasn’t unusual.  He took his beauty routines very seriously, considering himself a walking advertisement for his skills as a beautician.</p>
<p>The real sign that Lance was pregnant was his bump.  He’d popped about the same size as Keith, but where Keith was carrying rather low with a shape like the top of a bell curve, Lance was carrying high and round.  This caused his untucked shirt to drape in front of his jeans in such a way that the only reasonable explanations as to why were, a) pregnant, b) xenomorph, or, c) smuggling a throw pillow.  Meanwhile, if an astute viewer happened to notice Keith’s bump underneath one of Hunk’s shirts, they could be forgiven for mistaking it for a big breakfast.  Inevitably, Keith noticed Hunk’s arrival on the scene before the other two did.</p>
<p>“Hey babe.”  Keith grinned over at him as Lance and Shiro turned in his direction.  “Lance got trolled by Shiro’s ex-girlfriend.”</p>
<p>“She’s not my ex-girlfriend.”  Shiro’s voice was slightly muffled inside the Volvo.</p>
<p>“Ex-booty call,” Keith corrected himself.</p>
<p>Shiro’s expression in the rear view mirror said he instantly regretted opening his mouth.</p>
<p>“It’s alright though,” Lance said, “because Shiro got up in her grilled cheese and told her to stop.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah?”  Keith looked torn between laughing at Lance’s gratuitous use of body language to tell his story and taking a run up to New York to get up in somebody’s grilled cheese himself.  He had some prior experience with stalkery types and Hunk doubted he’d be too tolerant of somebody like that coming for his friends.</p>
<p>Shiro popped the cargo hatch and got out to help Hunk load their luggage behind the other suitcases.  “Pregnant people in the backseat,” Hunk said reflexively because it looked like those two were thinking about piling into the front seat together.  “For safety, guys.”  Shiro shot Hunk a grateful smile as they closed the cargo hatch, just as a ground attendant came up to reclaim the luggage cart.</p>
<p>Lance was still telling his story complete with what had to be embellishments when Hunk buckled up in the front passenger seat next to Shiro and in front of Keith.</p>
<p>“Yeah, he accidentally started a rumor that she has ringworm,” Lance said, and Keith burst out laughing.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t trying to start a rumor,” Shiro insisted as he shifted into drive to roll away from the curb.  “I was just trying to get her to listen to reason.”</p>
<p>Hunk listened to his friends and his mate banter and laugh as they continued to lovingly roast Shiro while negotiating where they were going to stop for lunch on the way to the house where they’d be staying for the next three nights.  Keith was craving a triple-triple, and Lance was jumping on that bandwagon as loudly as only he could, while Shiro tried fruitlessly to get them to consider a smoothie shop instead.  A light rain pattered the windows of the boxy SUV.  At least for this next little while all was well.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro pulled up in front of the house, a century and change old, where his mother had spent her high school years.  His grandmother had gotten a deal purchasing it ‘as is’ with damaged brick on the exterior, and, having a more practical nature than sentimental, had covered over the damaged brick with stucco.  Julia Kurogane Keighley had chosen a light toast shade that she’d then maintained with annual pressure washing.  When Shiro had inherited the house and set about restoring it he’d decided to resume the exterior maintenance as Julia had done it, and the house still had curb appeal even now with the Edwardian’s front yard long since lost to street-widening measures.  Its side garden had been paved over to make a private driveway for the residents to park their cars.  </p>
<p>It was that driveway which had resulted in Shiro first meeting Matt Holt, as some miscreant tried to saw the lock off the gate not very long after the omegas had moved in.  Shiro’s property manager – back then it had been a blustery but well-meaning older beta named Meer – had called him personally to ask him what he would like to do about it.  Meer said the omegas were scared, and he wanted to make a grand gesture to ensure that they felt safe in the house.  Shiro, who at the time possessed some motivation to schedule meetings with business associates in the Transamerica Pyramid anyway, as well as a desire to prove that his alpha potency had not diminished with the passing of his thirtieth birthday, had decided to take a business trip and go see to his omega tenants’ broken lock in person.  This had resulted in a keyless locking gate being installed in place of the old padlocked chain link fence, and a nine month relationship which had ended in some regrettable recriminations.</p>
<p>Shiro was grateful that he’d managed to patch up his friendship with Matt and his family.  In many respects that relationship had prepared him to become a better partner, even though it hadn’t lasted to see him make the transition.  He was also glad that Abi had arranged to add a motor to the gate, and upgraded the keyless lock on the gate to a smart lock.  This meant they’d have to keep the broadband on instead of leaving that up to the tenants, but it would be a lot more convenient to rent out on short term arrangements, as the lock could be changed much more easily.  It also meant Shiro didn’t have to get out of the car to open the gate.  He used the app on his phone to disengage the lock, and the gate rolled open letting them in, then rolled shut behind them as they pulled up beside the house.</p>
<p>Shiro led them up a short flight of stairs onto the back deck.  Long ago there had been a back garden there, but the increasing urbanization of the neighborhood had necessitated turning it into an enclosed deck, which was furnished with a conversation area and planters flourishing with ornamental grasses.  Another flight of stairs granted access from the deck to the sunken terrace below.  Shiro noticed Lance making a mental note of that terrace as he let the group into the kitchen from the deck.  As promised, Abi had outfitted the kitchen with small appliances, dishware, cookware, linens, and a lucky bamboo plant for good measure.</p>
<p>Past the kitchen was the living room, comfortably furnished in velvet and chenille in a muted color palette, soft for their pregnant omegas as Shiro had requested.  The design scheme was eclectic, with mid-century modern furniture pieces mixed together with Impressionist art on the walls and an Art Deco botanical rug over the parquet floor.  A floating entertainment center had been mounted on the section of wall adjacent to the front windows.  Lance and Keith could eat bon bons and watch trash TV at their ease for hours on end if they wanted to.  An undercurrent of excitement in the bond sense was already telling Shiro that, jet lag notwithstanding, Lance wanted to do more with their vacation than leave a permanent impression of his butt cheeks on the couch.</p>
<p>“So, what are our plans for day one, fearless leader?” Hunk asked, looking around at the house’s main level with a pleased expression that made Shiro’s inner alpha puff up with pride.</p>
<p>“I was thinking we could get settled into the house and relax for the rest of today,” Shiro said.  Local time was afternoon with plenty of daylight left, but for Shiro and Lance it still felt like the dinner hour was approaching, even after they’d indulged in burgers for lunch.  “The fridge and pantry should have some groceries we can use to make breakfast tomorrow, and there’s a teriyaki grill within walking distance where we could pick up some takeout for dinner.  Maybe we could make a movie night of it.”</p>
<p>Abi had stocked the refrigerator and pantry with the basics which she’d mentioned were the most often requested by tenants of the homestay properties she managed, along with a few special requests from Shiro.  Hunk expressed satisfaction with the breakfast options available, then started to wax rhapsodic about some future breakfasts he could make if he could just source a few more items.  Not wanting to derail that train of thought because he knew the deliciousness that could come of it, Shiro had left him on the couch talking to Abi on the phone about another grocery delivery, while he went back outside to start bringing in luggage.  Keith sat down beside Hunk trying, worryingly, to get Spam added to the shopping list.  Lance followed Shiro outside.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to help me carry anything, honey,” Shiro said as he popped the hatch and started shouldering bags.  “Hunk will come out here and help me bring in the rest as soon as he’s done figuring out what we’re eating for breakfast for the rest of the trip.”</p>
<p>“I just wanted to get you alone to call dibs on the lower level bedroom,” Lance said, stepping into Shiro’s body space and wrapping his arms around his waist.  “Please?”  His scent furled out in sweet enquiry.</p>
<p>Shiro smiled as his mate batted his eyelashes theatrically.  “You realize the upper level bedroom is the original master suite, right?”  The upper level didn’t have the terrace or even more livable floor space, but it did have the walk-in shower and double the amount of sinks, windows and closet space.</p>
<p>“I know, but this is the best chance we’ve ever had to really enjoy a terrace together,” was Lance’s reply, and seeing as he was correct, Shiro agreed to calling dibs on the lower level bedroom suite.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith dropped backwards onto the king-sized pillowtop bed that would be supporting his back for the next three nights.  If he hadn’t been pregnant he’d have given it the flying leap test, but the bed passed the body cradle test.  Ten out of ten, would bounce again.  The mattress shifted slightly as Hunk sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.  Keith opened one eye to peer up at him.</p>
<p>“You don’t think they gave us the real master suite just to be nice, do you?”</p>
<p>Leave it to Hunk to worry that a host was being too hospitable to him.</p>
<p>“Nope,” Keith said honestly, “I think Lance wants to find out if he needs to knit a sweater to go out on that sunken terrace at night.”</p>
<p>Hunk’s eyebrows rose.  “Do you mean that in like, a threading the needle kind of a way?”</p>
<p>Keith smiled at his husband’s choice of euphemism.  “I mean that in like, I’m really glad there’s a whole other floor between ours and theirs kind of way.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The sun had returned with no forecast of rain for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening.  The temperature outdoors was in the low sixties, prompting Hunk to pull on his twill jacket before leaving out of the stained glass front door with Shiro, who had pared down the layers he’d been wearing earlier to shirtsleeves and khakis.  The rain had left behind a lingering scent of ocean brine.</p>
<p>“It feels like Springtime arrived early!” Shiro said cheerfully as they started toward the teriyaki place on foot.</p>
<p>Maybe to him it did feel like Springtime, but to Hunk it felt like what it was: winter.  Still, with his friend’s company and the sun beaming out from behind the clouds, the two minute walk was undeniably quite pleasant.  Then they hove up to the counter inside of the restaurant and Shiro started looking uncertain as they perused the menu board.  Hunk was surprised, he had picked this place after all.  Maybe if he went first then Shiro would get his pizzazz back.</p>
<p>“Good day to you sir,” Hunk greeted the young beta behind the counter.  “I’ll have two of your teriyaki plates to go, one pork loin and one hanger steak, with white rice and carrot-ginger dressing on both.”  He looked over the menu board again.  “Add a side of pork ribs on there if you would, please.”</p>
<p>He caught Shiro eyeballing him skeptically out of his peripheral vision.</p>
<p>“Keith’s cravings are a force to be reckoned with, man,” Hunk said.</p>
<p>“You don’t think Keith ought to have something different?”</p>
<p>Hunk could tell Shiro was trying to be diplomatic, so he’d let the unasked-for suggestion slide.  “If he wants something different he knows he can have some of my steak.”  That was probably destined to happen anyway, come to think of it.  ‘Hey, would you add a cucumber salad to my order please?”</p>
<p>The beta server nodded and did as Hunk asked.  </p>
<p>Shiro looked over the menu board again.  “Lance’s doctor told me that he needs to have more foods high in iron and b-vitamins in his diet.”</p>
<p>“The chicken breast and tofu combo plate would be good for that,” their server said as he passed off Hunk’s order to the grill station.</p>
<p>Hunk couldn’t help but wonder what Lance would have to say to that, but Shiro looked relieved.</p>
<p>“Give me two of those to go then,” he said, “white rice and carrot-ginger dressing on both, and a side of spicy wings.”</p>
<p>If Lance’s cravings were even a tenth as insistent as Keith’s, then Hunk sincerely hoped that Shiro didn’t have designs on those spicy wings for himself.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Back at the house, Lance and Keith had found the snack pack potato chips in the cupboard and the bottled soft drinks in the fridge.  They brought their haul into the living room and started clicking through movie titles looking for their night’s entertainment.  Soon the crisp scent of the fresh lavender sachets tucked unobtrusively under couch and chair cushions was joined by the earthier scent of crisped potatoes.</p>
<p>“We should pick something romantic, ‘cause Valentine’s Day is tomorrow,” Lance said.  “Also, we should hide some of these in here.”  He gestured to the unopened potato chip bags on the kidney-shaped cocktail table.</p>
<p>Keith shot him a quizzical look about hiding the potato chips, but didn’t question it.  “Let’s pick something with an airport chase at the end,” was all he said.  “It’s my jam.”</p>
<p>“Cool, cool.”  Lance shoved a bag of chips between the couch cushions as he clicked through titles.  “How about <em>How Stella Got Her Groove Back</em>?”</p>
<p>“Classic,” Keith agreed.  “What’s going on with the chips?”  As usual, there was a hard limit to his patience.</p>
<p>“I want all of the sugar and salt and some of the grease,” Land said, leaning toward his friend as much as his emergent belly would allow.  “I know it’s probably not great for me, but I want it so much and Shiro keeps trying to be the junk food police which only makes me want it more.”</p>
<p>“I think I know what you mean.”  Keith leaned on the sofa’s armrest.  “I just can’t seem to get enough pork fat.  I mean, I like pork fat don’t misread me.  I just didn’t used to like it for every meal, you know?  Hunk probably wishes I’d lay off the Spam ‘cause then he’s tempted to eat it, and he’s been trying to watch his lipids.”  Keith smiled fondly.  “He’s probably ordering me something with pork in it right now.”</p>
<p>Lance rolled his eyes.  “Shiro is probably ordering me the most wholesome-sounding thing they have on their menu.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro set out the teriyaki takeout cartons on the round-topped dining table, as Hunk pulled out upholstered dining chairs for Keith and Lance.  Neither of them objected to the coconut water they’d brought back to accompany the meal, which was an encouraging sign for how the rest would be received.  Hunk watched in approval as Keith took to his pork loin with a hearty appetite, and in interest as Lance sampled a slice of tofu.  Shiro had asked for extra gluten-free sauce as a concession to Lance’s love of bold flavors.  The teriyaki did smell delicious.</p>
<p>“You know what,” Lance said, licking teriyaki sauce off his lips, “this is pretty good.”  </p>
<p>Shiro looked super duper proud of himself.</p>
<p>Lance swiped up another slice of grilled tofu with his chopsticks.  “It needs more sweet, though.”</p>
<p>“I know what it needs.”  Keith scraped back from the table, rose from his chair and went to the kitchen cupboard.  He brought back the jam sampler gift set with him and set it down in the center of the table.</p>
<p>“That’s a great idea!”  Lance popped open the plum jam and scooped a big spoonful onto his chicken and tofu.  He ate more of the tofu.  “Damn, that’s good.”</p>
<p>Keith dipped a pork rib directly into the open jar and eagerly tasted his concoction while Hunk privately mourned the loss of plum jam on toast for breakfast.</p>
<p>“Fuckin’ A,” Keith said around a mouthful of jammy rib meat, “that hits a sweet spot.”</p>
<p>Lance proceeded to serve himself another spoonful of the now-teriyaki tainted jam as Shiro watched on in open-mouthed horror.  “This is perfect.”</p>
<p>Hunk was going to have to take Shiro aside at the next available opportunity and advise him to pick his battles more carefully.  Sure, the double dipping was kind of gross; but thanks to that moment an easier way to sneak some fruit into Keith’s recently carnivorous diet had just been opened up to him, and he was sure that if Shiro paid attention, he’d learn some tricks he could apply to his own situation.  This trial by dubious food choices might even prepare them for the eventual arrival of the pickiest eaters on the face of the Earth: children.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance swanned out of the bathroom feeling very happy with himself.  He’d managed to sneak two of Shiro’s hot wings while he wasn’t looking.  One of his contraband bags of potato chips had been discovered during the movie when Hunk accidentally leaned back on it causing it to crunch, but not all of the hidden bags had been discovered.  They’d had a good time watching the movie and for the moment Lance’s cravings were satisfied.  </p>
<p>Shiro sat up against the padded headboard of their king-sized bed with a quilted grey comforter across his lap while he tapped and scrolled on his tablet checking opening prices on the European stock exchanges.  His reading glasses were perched low on his scarred nose.  <em>Most</em> of Lance’s cravings had been satisfied.  He insinuated himself between Shiro’s bare chest and the tablet, trilling for attention as he plucked the glasses off his mate’s handsome face.  Shiro’s eyes landed on him, warm as beach sand.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure I want to kiss that mouth after seeing what all you put in it at dinner.”  The words were delivered with poker-faced calm, but the shimmer in the eyes and along the bond sense gave away that Shiro was amused.</p>
<p>“It was delicious though.”  It really had been.  Lance wriggled in remembered delight.  Sweet and salty was the best flavor combo ever, and the tofu had made for an ideal delivery system.  “Besides, I brushed my teeth.”</p>
<p>“In that case, I have no objections.”  </p>
<p>Parts of Shiro’s anatomy definitely had no objections to Lance wriggling in his lap.  They rolled sideways and proceeded to test out whether the side by side position could really make the alpha partner last longer.  They tested it so thoroughly that they didn’t fall asleep until NASDAQ pre-trading hours had begun.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The upstairs master bedroom suite had a spacious walk-in shower, and Keith and Hunk put it to some uses it may not have been originally designed for.  Keith had started to worry that he might be getting a little too heavy to lift up that way, but if Hunk was having any trouble he sure as hell wasn’t showing it, his muscles cabling powerfully under Keith’s hands as he held on tight.  What a thoroughly enjoyable way to start the day.  Keith followed Hunk down the stairs feeling like a new man.</p>
<p>They found Lance already up and in the kitchen making coffee, and he greeted them with a smile, and then a broad wink just for Keith behind Hunk’s back.  So, maybe they had been a little noisy up there.  Lance was more the type to give them a ribbing than to be offended by it.  They poured their single small cups of coffee and then Hunk got started making soufflé pancakes.  Lance invited Keith to take a seat at the dining table, where he already had some of his hair care supplies ready and waiting.</p>
<p>“What’s on tap for today?” Hunk asked without turning around as Lance started doing something to Keith’s hair.  Keith wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt like braids.</p>
<p>“Whatever we want,” Lance said.  “We have reservations tonight at a place that plays classic movies during dinner, but until then we can wing it.”</p>
<p>They chatted idly about their options.  The house was a short drive away from Golden Gate Park, where they could stroll through gardens, explore exhibits, maybe do some beach combing.  They could even do the whole row boat across a lake scene there if they wanted to find out if that was as romantic as it was portrayed in the movies.  By the time Shiro shifted his behind out of bed, they’d decided collectively that they were going to Golden Gate Park, and also, Lance was done with Keith’s hair (it was fantasy elf braids, he’d totally called it), and Keith was planning on returning the favor and doing Lance’s nails.  In addition to that, breakfast was ready.</p>
<p>They firmed up their plans while enjoying Hunk’s stupendous cooking.  Shiro’s reaction to Lance microwaving leftover teriyaki chicken breast and layering it over his pancakes was entertainment gold.  Then Keith got to thinking on how that sounded like a good idea and asked Lance if he would share his chicken, and as it turned out, it was a really good idea.  Teriyaki chicken and soufflé pancakes: it was like chicken and waffles, but with teriyaki sauce and pancakes.  They should get the moms in on this and market it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro’s initial contribution to the plan had been an idea to rent a surrey bike together.  His thought had been for keeping the omegas out of the sun and off their feet as much as possible.  As interesting a photo opportunity as that would have been, Hunk was glad that Lance had been able to talk him into parking in the garage at the Music Concourse instead, so that they could take the park shuttle to whichever attractions they wanted to visit.  This left them free to separate for a while if they so chose, with an agreement to meet back up in the garage by sunset.  They took off into the park, spirits uplifted by the scent of eucalyptus trees and the knowledge that they didn’t have to hurry anywhere.</p>
<p>Keith and Hunk climbed the boardwalk together in the Osher Rainforest exhibit, over a tank of freshwater fish darting through the flooded forest aquarium and past leaping frogs, gliding lizards and brightly colorful macaws and tanagers.  Butterflies wheeled above them as they climbed, past displays of beautiful but deadly spiders and snakes, all the way to the top where the foliage was thickest and the misters were keeping the exhibit warm and humid enough for them to take off their jackets.  It was here where the butterflies were the thickest as well, fluttering to and fro in all shapes, colors and sizes.  Tiny red and black postman butterflies flittered around them at eye level as they took in the exuberance of Lepidoptera in their vicinity.  A large golden birdwing settled on Keith’s shoulder, prompting one of those rare unguarded expressions of wonder, the kind that Hunk would keep safe in the part of his memory devoted only to Keith.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>As soon as he spotted the tower gate, Lance knew he wanted to visit the Japanese Tea Garden.  With a wistful smile Shiro agreed, and Lance belatedly remembered that he used to visit tea gardens with his mother when she took him traveling abroad.  Perhaps she had taken him here too, but as they passed through dwarf trees onto a zig zag path, a peace settled over the environs which chased away doubts and doldrums.  Lance did take a little hit to his pride when Shiro had to help him up over the steeply curved Drum Bridge.  The laughter in Shiro’s face as he helped Lance shuffle-slide the rest of the way down the other side made it worth it.</p>
<p>Koi in variegated shades of gold seemed to follow them along the pond bed as they continued along a path lined by Japanese maple trees and stone lanterns.  They stopped to rest and reflect on a bench under the green shade of a cherry tree not yet in blossom before moving on through the red-orange temple gate toward the spire of the red pagoda at the top of the hill.  They passed through the zen garden with its ripples of gravel, walking a stone-paved lane bounded by bamboo and early azaleas and winding around a hedge pruned into the shape of a dragon, before emerging onto a brick terrace where a young couple were having wedding photos taken.</p>
<p>“Do you ever wish we’d gotten married in a more traditional way?” Lance asked as they strolled past the couple posing in front of rhododendrons, fresh in pink bloom.</p>
<p>“No.”  Shiro shook his head.  “I think that would have reminded me too much of my father’s wedding.  I think our wedding went just the way it was meant to, surprises and all.”</p>
<p>They took the bending path around the gift shop, stopping to rinse their hands in the water basin before continuing on to the Tea House, which was not a formal teahouse but rather more of an upscale snack shop with really nice views.  It seemed to be a popular snack shop too, because they had to wait in line to place their order.  Eventually they were able to get a table with a lovely vista of the waterfall tumbling over mossy rocks into the pond.  They had bottles of melon Ramune and a tray of tea cookies to split between them, to the delight of Lance’s sweet tooth.</p>
<p>He smiled as he cracked open one of the two fortune cookies on the tray.  “I thought these were Chinese?”</p>
<p>“Fortune cookies were most likely invented by Japanese immigrants,” Shiro said as he opened the other fortune cookie.  “They might even have originated right here at this very tea house.  What does yours say?”</p>
<p>Lance laughed as he read it. “It says giving birth to a baby is easier than worrying about it.  Are the wait staff able to pick the fortune somehow?  I’ve always wondered about that.”</p>
<p>“I’ve gotten a lot of fortunes telling me what time my server got off,” Shiro admitted.</p>
<p>Lance leered across the table at him.  “So did they get off?”</p>
<p>Shiro blushed and made a show of reading his fortune.  “Never forget your beginner’s spirt.”</p>
<p>“You’re supposed to say it with ‘in bed’ at the end,” Lance said.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you demonstrate it for me first honey.”</p>
<p>Lance winced when he realized how that was going to come out.  “I don’t really want to deliver our pup at home.”  He had an OBGYN doctor whom he trusted.  Modern medicine all the way for him, baby, if at all possible.  He remembered both Sylvio’s and Nadia’s arrivals into this world, so he knew that once labor started everybody was on the pup’s timetable, he just hoped his pup let him get to the hospital before prime time. </p>
<p>Shiro lifted his bottle of soft drink in cheers.  “And I prefer my pro in bed.”</p>
<p>Lance clinked bottles with him in a return toast.  “Touché, and olé.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro was happy that they all made it back to the garage right when they’d agreed upon.  There was no need to go back to the house and change, as the restaurant didn’t have a formal dress code and everybody already looked put together anyway, but it was nice to have the luxury of time to get seated and have their appetizer and drink orders filled before the movie started on the covered patio.  Since most of this restaurant’s starters were raw (this was something Shiro was going to have to investigate more thoroughly in future before he made any more reservations) they noshed on warm buttered bread and grilled vegetables as they sipped soft drinks and waited for their entrees to arrive.  Conversation was quietly ecstatic, in the manner of people who’d been spent the better part of the day walking around seeing the sights and now looked forward to eating something truly filling.  The film started as the entrees arrived, and Shiro took sustenance in the sight of his family laughing as the nightclub singer in the movie taught a house full of professors a thing or two about living in the moment, while at the same time learning that she still had a heart that could feel love.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance looked over his handiwork in silent approval.  The lower level bedroom had a small lattice-enclosed terrace which had been furnished with an outdoor convertible couch and footstool and a steel side table, with a rug thrown over the brick floor so that people could go out there barefoot.  Each of the house’s bathrooms had been supplied with a set of hinoki-scented spa candles, which Lance had lit and arrayed on every fireproof flat surface on the terrace.  They lent the small space a lovely glow and a scent which did not become overwhelming, thanks to the latticework letting some of it out into the night air.  Lance took a seat on the couch and arranged his dressing gown around him, making sure to let some leg show.</p>
<p>He was still sitting pretty when Shiro came into the suite carrying the two containers Lance had sent him upstairs for.  Shiro slowed his gait when he saw what Lance had been up to in his absence.</p>
<p>“I thought you said you had a craving?” he rumbled.</p>
<p>“I do.”  Lance crooked a finger.  “Come over here and I’ll show you what I’m craving.”</p>
<p>Shiro stepped out onto the terrace and sat on the footstool where Lance bade him.</p>
<p>“Open the teriyaki sauce cup.”</p>
<p>Shiro snapped the lid off the little cup of extra sauce that the teriyaki grill had packed with their order the previous day.  Lance shook the robe off one shoulder, revealing one large brown areola.</p>
<p>“Now put some sauce on me.”</p>
<p>Shiro dabbed two fingers into the sauce and swiped it across Lance’s nipple.  It was cold from the refrigerator.  Lance shivered in anticipation.</p>
<p>“Now open the jam.”</p>
<p>The plum jam had been demolished already, but the other two jars had still been in the pantry.  Shiro popped the seal on the apricot jam and twisted open the lid.  Lance shook the robe off his other shoulder, leaving his entire upper chest bare.</p>
<p>“Put some jam on me.”</p>
<p>Shiro decorated his other nipple with glistening apricot jam, which felt warmer and stickier than the teriyaki sauce.  Lance looked down at his chest approvingly.  He looked up and smiled at the intent expression on his husband’s face.</p>
<p>“Now taste them both.”</p>
<p>Shiro didn’t waste another second.  He set the opened containers down on the side table and leaned forward to sample the sauces, swirling his tongue around each swollen nipple.  Lance ran his hands through Shiro’s hair, his red nail polish standing out against the silver strands in the candlelight.  When Shiro finally lifted his head again, he sucked on his lower lip thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“That actually doesn’t taste bad,” he admitted.</p>
<p>“See?”  Lance grinned.  “I told you.”</p>
<p>“I’m going to need to test this flavor combination more thoroughly,” Shiro said.  “For science.”</p>
<p>“Such noble aspirations.”  Lance opened up the robe to reveal the rest of his fruitful nudity.  “I’ve always loved science.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The upstairs bedroom suite had a large faux animal print rug laid out beneath one of its many windows.  Keith had known as soon as he’d seen it that it was perfect for a scenario he’d been wanting to try.  Now Hunk reclined on that rug wearing nothing but moonlight on his burnished skin.  He fluttered his big brown eyes up at Keith, who stood over him wearing his bomber jacket and a felt hat he’d picked up in the Cal Academy gift shop.  The whole room smelled like chocolate macaroons.</p>
<p>“You saved me from those evil pterodactyl-riding wizards.”  Nobody Keith had ever met in a long and storied career in the titillation industry could do wide-eyed innocent roleplay like Hunk.  “What kind of cryptozoologist are you?”</p>
<p>“The lovin’ kind.”  Then Keith whipped off his hat and set about proving his claim.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Hunk flipped another crepe out of the pan and poured more batter.  He stirred the slow-cooking scrambled eggs to keep them soft, and checked on the macerating fruit.  The kitchen timer dinged: time to take the bacon out of the oven.  Keith had wanted a savory breakfast and Lance wanted sweet.  With crepes both outcomes were entirely possible, and also fun to make.</p>
<p>He could hear the omegas in the living room, chatting and vocalizing at each other on the couch.  If he could also occasionally hear the crinkle of a potato chip bag, what Shiro never found out couldn’t hurt him.  Hunk set the sheet pan of crisped bacon aside and turned to the refrigerator to reach down for a pint of fresh whipping cream, feeling a little twinge as he did so.  He enjoyed the hell out of switching with Keith, but he was glad they were going to the spa later.</p>
<p>The plan for the day was to walk over to Japan Center and do some shopping and sight seeing, maybe grab a bite to eat at Restaurant Row before going into the spa.  It was alphas’ day in the public baths, but Keith and Lance could still get private treatments.  Then they had reservations at a hot new place in SoMa where they were meeting up with Shay and Allura for dinner.  Shay was eight months pregnant, so Allura didn’t want to drive her too far away from their home base and Hunk didn’t blame her.  Apparently Shiro had applied some of his influence to get them a table at this restaurant, so hopefully it lived up to the amount of hype it had been getting.</p>
<p>It would appear that Shiro was once again sleeping in this morning.  When a man put in as many work hours as Hunk knew that Shiro did, he supposed he must take getting a chance to relax very seriously.  Either that or Lance had been wearing him out at night, which was also not outside the realm of possibility.  Even pregnant, Lance seemed to have enough energy for two other people.</p>
<p>Hunk also put in a lot of hours at work, but when he came home he was able to leave work behind with relative ease.  That was the hidden advantage of working for someone else.  If Hunk followed Shiro’s example and went into business for himself, he’d be leaving that part of his lifestyle behind, which was a sobering thought.  Not that this was anything to be concerned about in the immediate future.  </p>
<p>He and Keith were silent partners in the latest venture of the Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters; the moms retained primary decision making privileges.  But he was the one who had talked them into taking on that venture and he felt responsible.  Even if he knew that he could leave that business’s concerns in their capable hands and not worry too much about it, he also knew that wasn’t likely to happen because there was a big difference between a personal investment and a strictly professional one.  Their worries would follow him home, because home was where family lived.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>They whiled a beautiful day of clear, cool weather wandering around Peace Plaza and standing in the tranquil shade of its Space Age pagoda.  The plaza’s tree-lined stone walkways reminded Keith of the shopping district in Akane’s neighborhood where he’d spent many an afternoon ditching school as a teen, only now he had money to spend in the mall’s shops, buying souvenirs to take back home.  He found a store full of plush toys and impulsively bought Sunny a dog plushy that looked a lot like a chibi Kosmo.  He caught up to Hunk in a garden shop intently examining a bonsai pine seedling.  Hunk looked up and smiled at the sight of the round stuffed toy under Keith’s arm.</p>
<p>“Found something for the nursery?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Keith showed him the squeezable toy.  He was probably going to have a job and a half keeping it out of the reach of the real Kosmo.  “How about you?”</p>
<p>“I was thinking of getting this for Tommy,” Hunk said.  “He’s interested in agriculture and he doesn’t know a lot about this side of his heritage.  I just thought... I don’t know what I thought.”</p>
<p>“I think it’s a great idea,” Keith said, placing his free hand on Hunk’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Hunk smiled again.  “You do?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I do.  Get it for him.”</p>
<p>Hunk bought the bonsai and a few other things, and they departed in search of the others.  They found Lance in, predictably, a beauty store, and Keith pretended not to notice that he had nail polish in his basket when he went to checkout, because he was pretty sure he was going to be going home with one of those pots of polish.  Lance could never resist any opportunity to pull a make over or play dress up.  In Keith’s opinion, he’d chosen the perfect line of work for himself when he’d decided to pursue cosmetology.</p>
<p>The three of them then went in search of Shiro and found him in an art gallery.  They stood off to the side not wanting to interrupt whatever bargain he might be striking with the gallery assistant he was conversing with, until he looked up and spotted them there and excused himself from his conversation using the sophisticated charm he could pull out with strangers the way other people pulled out a pocket watch to say ‘geez look at the time.’</p>
<p>“We can wait longer,” Keith said when he saw Shiro’s empty hands.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Shiro replied.  “I already made my purchases, I was just arranging the shipments when you guys walked in.”</p>
<p>Yeah, that kind of smooth seemed to be a Shiro specialty.  But when they went to a family style restaurant in the mall, Shiro had a considerable more difficult time maintaining his chill as Lance proceeded to steal Shiro’s cup of extra unagi sauce to put over his kitsune udon.  Then Keith proceeded to do the same to his second cup so he could add some sweet to his tonkatsu, making brief eye contact as he did so to communicate that it was his sauce now, just so Shiro knew.  Hunk just shrugged and carried on eating his katsudon while Shiro had to flag their waiter again to ask for a third cup of sauce for his own unadon.</p>
<p>They spent another hour shopping before walking over to the spa.  The public baths at the spa were run with rotating days for each secondary gender to take a turn: two for omegas, two for betas and two for alphas.  One day a week was reserved for mixed group bathing, but Saturday was an alphas only day, so Hunk and Shiro were going to use the bath facilities while Keith and Lance had appointments for some personal pampering.</p>
<p>As he lay back in a lounge chair while a pedicurist worked on his feet and an aesthetician gave him a facial, Keith wasn’t complaining.  In the chair next to his, he heard Lance asking another attendant if they could bring some ginger tea for the two of them.  Keith’s eyes had cucumbers over them, and he felt too relaxed to lift an arm to remove one just to confirm whether the attendant had nodded and gone to fetch tea.  If the ginger tea arrived, fine.  Hopefully he’d still be awake for it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro sank down into the hot pool next to Hunk, who’d opted for the standing shower over the seated shower and had thus completed his pre-soak cleansing faster.  Both of them sighed in contentment as they hunkered down in the hot water with their folded hand towels balanced on top of their heads.  Shiro tried to relax and just be in the moment.  It should have been easy in the current setting, but his thoughts were still several rooms over.</p>
<p>Finally, Hunk said, “Dude.  I can feel you thinking.  What’s going on with you?”</p>
<p>“I’ve been having trouble turning off the worry,” Shiro admitted.  He opened one eye to look over at Hunk, who was looking back at him with one eye.  “How do you stay so calm?”</p>
<p>“I just remember that Keith is a highly capable adult who would never knowingly risk Sunny’s life.”</p>
<p>Shiro smiled.  “You already gave the pup a nickname?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Hunk grinned.  “He is the sunshine of our lives.”</p>
<p>Shiro grinned back.  “It’s a boy?”</p>
<p>“Dang it, I wasn’t supposed to say anything yet.”  Hunk’s shoulders went up in self reproach, but his smile never wavered.  “We’re like, ninety percent sure Sunny is a boy, but it doesn’t really matter, they’re still our sunlight no matter what.”</p>
<p>Shiro thought back on a little dancing figure lighting up a radiology image, confirmation that his life was about to become impossibly more brilliant than it already was.  “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The restaurant was in a new building full of mirrored windows that reflected the street lights outside.  Once they were inside, a waiter in a black vest and waist apron led them to their table in the main dining section.  Wall bench seats had square tables set up in front of them in such a way that diners could move them together or apart to form large or intimate dining areas, with chairs pulled up on the other side of the tables.  Hunk was impressed with the flexibility this afforded, though he wondered if it made the diners feel cramped enough to want to rush through meals.  That might be a plus for the managers here, though; this place was packed, and there had been people still trying to get on the wait list for a table when they’d been ushered in the door with their coveted reservations.</p>
<p>Their party had three square tables pushed together, and Shay and Allura were already waiting for them there.  Shay had been seated on the padded bench, and Allura in one of the three chairs.  Both stood when the waiter approached.  Allura was beautiful as always in a blue cocktail dress with a dramatic cape neckline, her embrace reassuringly strong.  It was Shay who was the glowing surprise in an olive green skater dress with gold contrasting trim.</p>
<p>Objectively, Hunk had known that she was very pregnant.  Knowing was different than seeing her with a belly the shape and size of which showed beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was a baby on board.  He hugged her and was surprised when the belly pushed back.  Shay laughed at his startled reaction.</p>
<p>“She likes to poke her feet out,” Shay explained, running one hand over the protruding curve of her stomach.</p>
<p>“She’s got ballerina genes,” Allura said proudly.  Her mother had been a member of a contemporary ballet company that had frequently collaborated with Allura’s father, who had been a composer.  It was how they’d met, in a story regaled often by Coran.</p>
<p>The party traded greetings as they sat, with the omegas on the more defensible wall bench and the alphas in the chairs with their backs to the main floor.  In a subconscious protective configuration, they arranged themselves with the most pregnant among them bracketed by the two less pregnant ones, mirrored by the female alpha being book ended by the two males.  They chatted as their waiter handed them menus and lit the candle lantern on their table next to a centerpiece of fresh orchids.  Shay and Allura knew they were having a girl, and they were planning on naming her Marie Elenor, after Allura’s late mother; only, Allura’s mother had gone by the elided name of ‘Melenor’ for most of her life.  They didn’t want to give their baby the same diminutive, but they hadn’t yet decided on an alternative.</p>
<p>“How did you decide on her given name?” Keith asked as the waiter brought their complimentary bread basket and the handcrafted ginger ales they’d all ordered.</p>
<p>Shay and Allura traded looks across the table and shrugged.  “It’s tradition in my family, and it was in Melenor’s family as well,” Shay said.  “Our first daughter will be named after Allura’s mother, our first son after her father, our second daughter after my mother and our second son after my father.  If we have more children we’ll probably start with other family namesakes.”  She dimpled at Allura.  “Maybe we’ll have an Allura Junior some day.”</p>
<p>Shay was a female omega, so the chances for her to safely deliver that many pups were higher than average among mothers of all dynamics, if that was something she decided she wanted to do.  Hunk still remembered the first time he’d ever seen Shay, which had been long before the first time he’d formally introduced himself to her.  The Barrerra family had lived a few blocks over from the Garretts.  Thanks to the mysterious rules of school district boundaries they’d gone to different elementary schools, but they’d all played at the same neighborhood park.  Shay had wanted to go high on the swings, but her brother wouldn’t give her a boost, not wanting to surrender his position in a pickup game of soccer with another group of boys from their neighborhood.</p>
<p>Hunk had volunteered to push her higher on the swing, and from that day on they’d both gravitated toward the swing set whenever they were in the park at the same time, under the suspicious eyes of Shay’s older brother Rax and the more affectionate eyes of her grandmother whose given name he found out much later was Marijo, but who allowed all of the kids at the park to call her Lola, a woman always generous with the grandma love.  In those days Hunk and Shay had played freely in the way of unpresented children, though the way her brother and sometimes also her father hovered around her, it seemed as if they’d already known she would eventually present as omega.  Conventional wisdom had it that families with access to a long and detailed enough family tree could predict secondary gender with around seventy percent accuracy (‘the sixth generation knows the presentation’ went one popular rhyme) so perhaps they’d had an inkling.  They hadn’t sent her to the same magnet middle school that Rax and eventually Hunk had attended.  By the time Hunk saw her again on their first day of high school, it had been a few years since they’d last clapped eyes on each other, and both of them had recently presented.</p>
<p>Hunk had recognized her at once.  Even with a womanly figure in first bud under a simple embroidered shift dress, that sweet face was unmistakable.  The way that her doe eyes slid over and past him without a glimmer of acknowledgment told Hunk that she might not have recognized him in return, and he’d tried not to feel disappointed about it.  Since they’d seen each other last Hunk had sprung up, and also, to his private dismay, out.  Alpha presentation could turn a kid’s appetite into a raging inferno, and it would be a few more years after that before Hunk finally felt like he had a solid handle on his dynamic.</p>
<p>But here, Hunk had thought at the time, was a rare chance to make a brand new first impression.  Shay had beside her a huge harp on a trolley and she was clearly having some kind of problem with the brake.  Assuming that the trolley’s failsafe was located on the handlebar like the trolleys Hunk’s father used in his shop, he’d stepped in thinking to once more be her knight in shining armor and rescue her from her brother’s lack of concern for her self-actualization (seriously he was standing three feet away cutting the fool with his buddies instead of helping his sister lug that heavy musical instrument) only to discover that what he’d mistaken for a handbrake was just a pad and stabilizer for the harp.  If he’d only looked closer he’d have noticed the foot brakes on the wheels, one of which appeared to be stuck in the upright position.  Well, he did notice when the trolley turned a neat little semi-circle and rolled right over his foot.</p>
<p>Those eighty pounds had made an impression alright, though thankfully his good strong bones from the Hale side of the family would wind up saving him from having to get a cast on his first day of high school.  Then hall monitor Allura had swept in and saved the harp, run off Rax and his jackass buddies who were laughing at the scene, and escorted Hunk to the school nurse’s office, before proceeding to escort Shay to her first class.  That right there had been the end of Hunk’s chances at ever being more than friends with Shay, who was instantly smitten with the tall blonde alpha destined to be at her side from that day forward.  Over time Hunk had learned to think of the incident as the beginning of a wonderful friendship instead of the premature end of a courtship.  If he’d been less clumsy and somehow managed to impress Shay then he might not have Keith and Sunny in his life now, so that goofed opportunity had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.</p>
<p>“What about you all, have you decided on any names yet?” Allura asked as their waiter returned with an appetizer of marinated whole olives.</p>
<p>Keith groaned.  “We’ve been wracking our brains trying to think up names but our moms are making it hard.”</p>
<p>“They’ve been campaigning for us to use a few particular family names,” Hunk explained, using his butter knife to pit olives for himself and Keith.  “Which order they go in depends on which mom you’re talking to.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you could combine them,” Shay suggested.  “My grandmother’s name is a combination of her parents’ names.”</p>
<p>Shay’s grandmother had been the youngest of a large family, and had moved in with her eldest after her husband died.  That eldest had then proceeded to have a relatively small family of one boy and one girl.  Lola must be so excited for the day when she would meet her first great-grandchild.  The woman who’d had enough love to share with a playground full of children was going to be a wonderful great-grandmother to Shay’s.  Maybe Hunk was being a little unfair in not giving the moms’ name choices more of his consideration.</p>
<p>Keith looked at Hunk with pursed lips as he accepted a dish of pitted olives from his hands.  “Herschak.”  He gamely tested out the name, then made a face at the sound of it.</p>
<p>Hunk laughed.  “Yorschel.”</p>
<p>“Nope,” Keith said, “I don’t think that’s gonna work for our situation.”</p>
<p>Then Allura had tried to tease out the girl name options out of them, and Hunk had gone along with it, not wanting to spill the beans about the primary gender reveal past his inadvertent slip to Shiro.  Keith was not in favor of Yobalina as a viable combo name.  “We’d have to deal with people asking us if Sunny was conceived in Yorba Linda.”  Hunk wondered how many people actually assumed a child named after a city must have been conceived in that city, but he agreed that the possibility of being quizzed on it was uncomfortable enough to want to avoid it.  This discussion led into how they’d already started calling the pup Sunny, and they were still talking about baby names when the waiter arrived with their entrées.</p>
<p>This restaurant specialized in the deconstructed food trend, which Hunk personally thought was a hit or miss experiment, but when it worked, it was capable of really surprising the diner.  Nevertheless he’d opted against surprises and gone for one of the dishes that seemed the least like it was trying to reinvent the wheel.  His bavette, grilled medium rare, had been sliced on the bias and served on top of a bed of roughly chopped parsley, with a swirl of pan sauce on the circumference of the plate.  Next to the steak, russet potatoes had been sliced into medallions and roasted, and topped with little mounds of diced garlic and oregano.  The whole plate of food glistened from a jot of olive oil.</p>
<p>Hunk built himself a perfect bite.  The potatoes benefitted more from the aromatics than the steak did, but it was still quite tasty.  He looked across the table at Keith, who had been brought a grilled pork chop on a bed of apple purée under a glaze of maple syrup, with a side of grilled carrots in balsamic dressing.  Keith gave him the subtle nod that let him know that they didn’t need to switch plates.</p>
<p>“Honey, is your mother going to expect us to name the baby after her or your father?”  Shiro squeezed fresh lemon juice over his own broiled salmon with asparagus purée while eyeing Lance’s buttered tagliatelle with giant shavings of Parmesan curling over the top, probably either wondering if he should have gotten the pasta or wondering if Lance shouldn’t have.  “I like both of your parents’ names, I’d just like to be prepared before she comes up for your sister’s wedding.”</p>
<p>Lance pulled his bowl of pasta little closer to himself.  “I’m sure she’d like it if we pick a middle name from whichever saints have a feast day on the day that the pup is born.  For the christening, you know.”  Lance dared to wave a fork and leave his pasta undefended.  “But for the given name the sky’s the limit.”</p>
<p>Shiro abandoned whatever thought of stealing some of Lance’s pasta might have been going through his head and forked up some salmon.  “She won’t be upset if we don’t go with a family namesake?”</p>
<p>“We have a nephew named Socrates,” Lance reminded him.  “Vero and Dorma named him after Dorma’s father, not Vero’s, and they altered the spelling too.  Trust me, we can name her Esther if we want to, and they won’t mind even a little.”</p>
<p>Shiro chuckled.  “Esther?”</p>
<p>“Mmhmm, because we saw her doing water ballet in there.”</p>
<p>“We don’t know it’s a she,” Shiro said, smiling.</p>
<p>“We don’t know that she’s not,” Lance retorted.  “What about your family, is Tatsuo expecting a namesake?”</p>
<p>Shiro almost choked on a bite of salmon.  “No,” he said emphatically.  “As long as the pup bears the family name of Shirogane, the only thing my family would ask of the personal name is that it not have an embarrassing translation in katakana.”</p>
<p>Lance smiled and offered a forkful of pasta to Shiro.  “So nothing punny, huh?”</p>
<p>Shiro smiled back.  “Nothing too punny,” he said, before leaning forward to accept the offered pasta.</p>
<p>They continued to enjoy their meals and conversations until their dinners were cleared and a pot of orange and mint tisane was served for them to linger over.  Shiro waved for the check, and that was when Hunk signaled his own prearranged cue.  A veritable parade of waiters trooped over carrying a tray full of dessert with a lit candle stuck upright out of a fresh halved strawberry.</p>
<p>
  <strong>♪  “For he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fellow whose birthday is every four years!”  ♪</strong>
</p>
<p>Tables around them applauded and joined in their laughter as they figured out what was going on while Shiro blushed and then graciously blew out the candle.  The dessert was a deconstructed idea of strawberry shortcake, with six sweet biscuits arranged in a puddle of vanilla syrup, surrounded by fresh cut strawberries and with a generous scoop of clotted cream right in the center of the tray.  Their night out ended on a sweet note as the friendship group all let Shiro know that they were glad he’d been born.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro took another circuit of the lower level bedroom suite, feeling a sweet melancholy that he’d expected to experience on arriving, having prior associations with the house involving both late family and a former lover.  Instead he was experiencing that feeling upon leaving.  It was amazing how quickly this house had become a home with the two close couples staying in it.  They’d come home from dinner the previous evening and spent another few hours talking and laughing on the deck before shuffling off to bed.  Their flights were scheduled for early afternoon, so Shiro and Hunk had decided to let Lance and Keith get in a little more time together after breakfast while they packed up the Volvo.</p>
<p>Deducing that there was nothing still in the bedroom that hadn’t been in there when they’d arrived, Shiro trotted up the steps to the house’s main level.  He should probably ask Lance and Keith what they wanted for lunch.  They’d polished off the contents of the refrigerator in a grand frittata breakfast that Hunk had made for them, but there were still a few items in the pantry that they could cobble together into something good and filling.  Or they could hit another drive-thru on the way to the airport, though if they did, Shiro would lobby for a juice bar he remembered that was over in the direction of where Matt’s parents lived.  It shouldn’t take them more than fifteen minutes out of their way, and they still had time to factor that into their travel itinerary.</p>
<p>Shiro wouldn’t have let the time slip by without paying the Holts a quick visit, but as it turned out neither of them were in town.  Sam was away on a guest lecture invitation from Humboldt State University and wouldn’t be back for another day.  Colleen had left on some mysterious assignment that she’d anticipated keeping her away long enough to take the expedient of leaving her dog with Pidge, who must be having an interesting time at the dog park that Keith had told them about.  Shiro was still smiling at the mental image of tiny Pidge chasing after three big rambunctious dogs when he walked into the living room and found two omegas watching an action movie with several empty potato chip bags littered around them.  On the coffee table was an open jar of marmalade, into which they’d been – horror of horrors – double dipping the chips.</p>
<p>“Don’t judge me,” Keith said with the sort of glare that would make most alphas either walk firmly in the opposite direction of an omega or say ‘step on me please.’  Shiro suspected Hunk had at least a little of the latter persuasion in his makeup.</p>
<p>“Yeah, don’t hate on the marmatates,” Lance said around a cheek full of chips, while waving a fist with an orange-covered potato chip clutched in it.</p>
<p>“We should market that.”  Keith swept a fresh chip through the orange marmalade, out of which poked the broken off pieces of chips from previous passes.  </p>
<p>They had turned that perfectly nice jar of marmalade into a potato chip gyre.  A Marmatate Triangle.  A wide Marmatate Sea.  The jagged potato chip pieces sticking up out of the marmalade kind of looked like shark fins, and the appropriate John Williams soundtrack music swelled to life inside Shiro’s mind.</p>
<p>Cetaceans far out at sea probably heard Shiro crying out, <em>whyyyyyy</em>?</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>When the lady cop had caught him drag racing with Karp and taken him in, Morgil had thought he was on his way to the county lockup.  Instead he was trapped in a tiny house in the middle of nowhere, on lockdown because dear old dad wanted his bone marrow.  His ma had always told him Lotor Manigford would be back for him some day.  He’d always thought that was just a fantasy not worth wasting his wishes on.  He’d love to say he told her so, except really she’d told him so, they’d both just misinterpreted what that might actually mean.</p>
<p>He wasn’t gonna lie though, the lady cop was pretty hot for a married authority figure older than Ma.  He didn’t usually go for older women, but he did appreciate the female form, and this lady had a nice one.  It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, though.  The tiny house was so small the only place to get any privacy was the bathroom, and even then every plop plop fizz fizz was fully audible from outside the room.  He’d have to just save his memory of Special Agent Holt telling Karp, “You better prove you’re faster ‘cause you don’t want me catching up to you” for the spank bank.  That was assuming he ever got out of this.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance and Keith making a bacchanalian feast of the potato chips had the unexpected consequence of them becoming much more agreeable to getting drive-thru smoothies.  Now they cuddled in the back seat of the Volvo sipping out of enormous to-go cups and vocalizing frequently through their conversation while Shiro drove to the airport.  Since he was driving, he couldn’t look back there as often as Hunk was doing, but it was still really nice having pleased omega scents circulating in the vehicle.  They needed to do this again as soon as possible, because he was really going to miss being together like this.  Maybe it wasn’t too soon to start planning a joint first birthday celebration for the pups.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Colleen hunkered down in the front seat of the rental car with her cell phone to her ear, heater blasting.  It was barely enough to blast off the wintry chill, but it was the only place she could get a moment’s privacy from the horny teenager in the tiny house.  She didn’t even want to think about what he might be doing in there while she was out here, but she’d been a mother to teenagers recently enough that it was unfortunately not that difficult to imagine.  Better to focus on the job.</p>
<p>“You let Deputy Cossack act as the decoy,” she said very slowly so that the analyst on the other end of the line could keep up, “and you didn’t think that was a problem?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“They look a lot alike.  Besides, we figured that if the suspect made Deputy Cossack he’d still go for him anyway.”</em>
</p>
<p>Considering that the sheriff’s deputy happened to be Morgil’s older half-brother and also an alpha, that was a reasonable assumption.  However, “Putting a different blood-related alpha in the suspect’s possession is not an improvement, Agent!”</p>
<p><em>“Deputy Cossack is a trained law enforcement officer!”</em>  Agent Dwarkin was not for hearing any implied slight on his analytical abilities.  <em>“He’ll be a lot harder for the suspect to keep under control than a high school senior, and besides, we’ve got a GPS tracker on him, he’s not lost.  We just don’t have eyes on him at the moment.”</em></p>
<p>That all sounded great on paper, but the reality was that Macidus was smart enough to have figured that out too, and crazy enough to get rid of that tracker by whatever means he deemed necessary.  Dwarkin damn well ought to know that, since Macidus had just successfully made off with the decoy right under his nose.  Suddenly a figure in long johns lurched out of the snowy woods, blond wig askew around his panicked face.  Deputy Cossack pulled the wig the rest of the way off his naturally blond but regulation-short hair as he fumbled around the side of the car looking for a way in.  Colleen hung up on Dwarkin and popped open the door locks.</p>
<p>She stepped out of the car into the freezing cold.  “Deputy Cossack?”</p>
<p>“He found my tracker!”  Cossack jumped into the backseat and went into the fetal position trying to warm up his hands and other sensitive appendages.  “We gotta get out of here!  He’s crazy!”</p>
<p>“Stay right there and don’t move,” she ordered him, “I’ll be right back.”</p>
<p>She ran for the tiny house to roust out Morgil from whatever unmentionable business he might have gotten up to.  The necessity of getting her witnesses to safety was too urgent to respect the kid’s privacy.  She hoped the young deputy had managed to cover his trail well enough to buy them time to hightail it out onto I-84.  Dwarkin would just have to wait for an update until she felt safe enough to stop and fill him in.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Maahox had thought to sneak into Macidus’s house in the dead of night while the moon was a sliver and the master was away, but the block was swarming with people wearing jackets bearing law enforcement acronyms on their backs.  Maahox shied away from their floodlights, turning the rental car back in the direction of his granddaughter’s house.  If he couldn’t get Macidus’s notes from his abode, he may have to settle for collecting them from the man himself.  Messy business that, but in this case probably worth the trouble, and then he could focus his energies more exclusively on Zarkon.  It was time for a road trip!</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro couldn’t think of a better way to cap off a good week than a session of Monsters &amp; Mana.  Lance had passed his exams and obtained his license, Keith had received a job offer from Hawkins Aircraft Company, the Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters had obtained a two year vendor license to sell baked goods from their new storefront property, and Kuro was an internet sensation after his latest dance video went viral.  Okay, so maybe Shiro had a less sensational week what with Omnia acting rather oddly, disappearing into the bathroom at all hours of the workday.  Pidge was proud of Kuro but seemed conflicted about the tenor of some of the attention he’d been getting, and Matt was grumpy again because Ryan had been called away on some nebulous assignment.  It was not possible for everyone to have a great time all of the time, but Shiro still felt that it had been a week worth celebrating overall.</p>
<p>Pidge had them back in the enchanted forest looking for Ancient Phanadu’s secret armory, which contained, among other wonders, a magical suit of armor that could adjust to fit any wearer.  Pike needed the breastplate to cover his expanding tunic.  It seemed that Neko kittens were worth some coin on the game’s underground market, dead or alive.  There had been a few too many close calls, and Shiro was on the verge of having to resort to the banana-fana song to name his Paladin character.  Thunderstorm needed the belted pouch, and the rest of them were planning to split the remaining armor between them if they found all of the pieces.</p>
<p>Thunderstorm’s need for the pouch had been causing Pike angst.  “How come I have to carry six kittens and he gets an egg?”  Lance was curled up on the armchair across from Shiro’s desk with Atlas sprawled between his growing belly and the tablet upright in his hands.</p>
<p><em>“It’s not Thunderstorm’s fault that he’s descended from an avian race of fey.”</em>  Pidge was finding the Pangst quite amusing if her tone of voice was any indication.</p>
<p><em>“Don’t be wigging just ‘cause I’m not a mammal,”</em> Thunderstorm said.  <em>“Anyway, your kittens are protected by your whole body.  My broodling only has a fragile shell.”</em></p>
<p>They’d had to deal with evil-aligned players taking deliberate aim at Pike, but Thunderstorm’s fear of his egg falling out of his cloak was of no less concern.  It could crack on impact, or it could get lost or stolen, whereas if someone attempted to steal Pike’s kittens, there was simply no way to do so that wouldn’t attract the notice of every nearby member of the party and bring them running.  Thunderstorm’s egg could be purloined much more easily and they might not realize it until the thief’s trail had gone cold.  They really needed to find that armor, for both of their expectant party members.  </p>
<p>Just then, a tall figure dissolved out of the trees, wearing leathery-looking armor made of plant matter that blended in with the tree trunks like camouflage.  The group tensed.  The armored figure’s face shroud shrank back with the distinctive sparkle of faerie magic, revealing a magnificent red mustache.  <em>“Prince Cloudburst!”</em> he cried.  <em>“It is you!”</em>  </p>
<p>Somehow Coran had found the time and internet connection to join them from wherever he and Dayak were on their real-life journey.  Knight-Errant Chatarbre was a character he’d played before becoming the group’s Lore Master, and had taken up again after handing off the Lore Master role to Pidge.  Chatarbre’s latest chivalric quest sent him on frequent errands for the Marmoran resistance, relaying messages between them and the true and lawful regent, who remained in hiding until the time was right for him to retake the throne.</p>
<p>If a 3D animated figure could cringe, Thunderstorm’s avatar was doing a reasonably good approximation.  <em>“Sir Chatarbre, you really need to start calling me Thunderstorm Darkness!”</em></p>
<p><em>“Of course your highness.”</em>  Then Chatarbre caught a glimpse of iridescent egg shell under Thunderstorm’s cloak and gasped.  <em>“The next heir to the Marmora Throne is laid!  Who has sired this egg upon you Pri– Thunderstorm?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Um...”</em>  Thunderstorm looked at Block before breaking the fourth wall.  <em>“Couldn’t it just be my real kid’s real father?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Sure,”</em> Pidge said, <em>“if you want to complicate the party’s group dynamics and add a whole new challenge to your dynasty’s quest to restore peace to Marmora, why not.”</em></p>
<p>Now it was Thunderstorm Darkness’s turn for angst.  (Dangst?)  <em>“Everybody knows Tsunejīro is Pike’s baby daddy, and nobody cares, why is it different for me?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Actually I think Yukihiro must have been the da- you know what, that doesn’t even matter,”</em> Pidge said.  <em>“Neko are notoriously promiscuous.  Pike can have affairs with every single Paladin brother that shows up and it won’t create major ripples in the storyline, because he’s an actual rogue, not the hidden heir apparent of a faerie kingdom with an usurper that needs overthrowing.”</em></p>
<p>The CGI ambience darkened ominously.  Thunderstorm’s moods were capable of affecting the in-game weather as an encounter power, whenever Keith remembered to toggle to the macro and use it.</p>
<p><em>“What if I’m like, the secret dad?”</em> Block spoke up.  <em>“We’re secretly in love but nobody can know.”</em></p>
<p><em>“A forbidden romance!”</em>  Chatarbre bunny-hopped in place.  <em>“Oh, I quite like that!”</em></p>
<p>“Alright, I have feeling like that’s gonna come back and bite you guys in the butt later, but we can go with that,” Pidge agreed.  Shafts of CGI sunshine once more filtered through the enchanted forest’s tree cover and the game was on again.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Going on the run with a witness was never fun.  Luckily Colleen had not had to do that very often in her career.  Going on the run with two late adolescent male alphas was the complete opposite of fun.  They’d been staying at a different hotel every night, choosing which direction to drive by tossing a pebble at a map.  Colleen was trying to keep it as random as possible, unwilling to underestimate her adversary, even if she wound up giving him too much credit and exhausted her young charges.</p>
<p>Nineteen year-old Cossack had been trying to keep it together and act mature, acutely aware that not only was he the oldest male alpha in this little escape party, he was also in the company of an officer who technically outranked him.  Colleen appreciated his goofily endearing efforts and fully intended on commending him to his real superior officer as soon as she got the chance.  Eighteen year-old Morgil had descended into a gloomy funk after the second day, which was worrisome because that made him unpredictable.  Colleen might have to plan for another fun outing to try to get him to snap out of it.  The first fun outing had been a necessary trip to get Cossack some clothes, which had turned into an afternoon of movie hopping at the aging cineplex in the small town’s mall while trying to shake the persistent attention of a pack of bored youths.</p>
<p>The news that they were half-brothers had been underwhelming for both of them, though Cossack had been making overtures at camaraderie.  Thank providence for that kid (she wasn’t about to thank Lotor for him).  Their ultimate escape from this holding pattern of randomness came in the form of a text message from Ryan.  It beeped in while they were waiting for their breakfast orders at a diner not far from the motel they’d just checked out of.  The fair-haired teens watched in undisguised curiosity as she read the message with a growing smile on her face.</p>
<p>“We got new orders boss?” Cossack asked, trying not to sound too eager but he had not yet mastered the art of the thousand yard stare.</p>
<p>“We do,” she said.  “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to the car.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance stared reality in the face in his closet mirror.  Reality, re: his own reflection, frowned back.  The blue suede jumpsuit with a black shawl collar that he’d planned to wear to Shiro’s birthday dinner would not button closed over his stomach.  How had he let it get this far before realizing he was going to have to buy maternity clothes?  Maybe because he’d been relying mostly on stretchy street clothes for over a month, and allowed it to warp his perspective of how clothes were actually fitting him.  </p>
<p>It was only going to get worse.  He needed to suck it up and shop for maternity clothes, but before he did that, he needed to find something suitable to wear out to a nice restaurant ASAP.  He had a black jumpsuit with vertical darts that he’d gotten in case he suddenly needed to be presentable on a bloaty day.  It should be just forgiving enough to wear over an early second trimester stomach.  The jumpsuit had 3/4 sleeves and a scoop neck, but if he wore his black evening shawl over it, then that would help keep him warm when he took off his overcoat.</p>
<p>Luckily he had a pair of black velvet slippers in the same design as the blue ones he’d originally planned to wear.  Just the thought of putting on any kind of heel made his back cramp in anticipation.  Lance got changed and opened the closet safe to take out his anniversary watch and his courting necklace, and then looked in the mirror again as he put it on.  He still looked pregnant, but this time the effort to look chic worked for him instead of against him.  This new silhouette was going to take some getting used to.</p>
<p>Lance stepped out of the walk-in closet into his old bedroom.  He’d continued using that closet, since Shiro’s was organized down to the type of material, whereas Lance tended to put clothes away wherever he noticed available space.  It was simpler for both of them to keep Lance's bedclothes, underwear and casual clothes in the chest of drawers in their bedroom and leave his fancier items in here.  The guest bedroom was still rather flouncy, but the four poster bed had been moved out and replaced with a six drawer changing table and a steel diaper pail.  Lance suspected that he was going to wind up using that furniture more often than Haruka ever had.</p>
<p>He stepped out into the hall and found Shiro waiting for him, gorgeous in grey wool and white silk.  He smiled when he saw Lance.  “Honey, you look amazing.”</p>
<p>“It’s all for you, birthday boy.”</p>
<p>Shiro offered his arm and Lance took it.  They were going to the nearby Italian place where they liked to linger after evenings at Lincoln Center, and then they were coming home to a Castella cake made by Haruka.  They were going to have a lovely evening together, and after all of that Lance would show Shiro personally how happy he was that he’d been brought into the world.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Month Five: Beating Heart Baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lance and Keith continue to prepare for changes as Pidge and Kuro plan to reunite and other plans encounter snags in the background.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank to everyone reading this behemoth that temporarily took over my life.  Shout outs to PyroInfinite, Drowning_Slowly and luminiferousaether for comments.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>“You’re going to need a cozy chair to put under that window.”  Krolia had come over armed with measuring tape and a checklist.  “I’d recommend a reclining rocker.  You also need a changing table, a crib, a hamper, and a good diaper pail.”  She gave him a serious look.  “Never underestimate the value of a good diaper pail.  It doesn’t matter how cute the rest of the room is if everything smells like poop.”</p>
<p>Keith looked around at the real furniture occupying the spaces where the hypothetical furniture would go.  “Where am I going to put all this stuff?”</p>
<p>“The butler’s desk can still be useful in your nursery, you’ll just have to move it over, that’s all.”  She looked at the daybed thoughtfully.  “If you need to move the bed, we’ve just finished repainting one of the bedrooms at the new location.  It’s ready to start furnishing.”</p>
<p>“Of course I’ll donate the bed.”  He’d miss using it for gaming sessions, but he’d feel better knowing that another omega trying to overcome a rough start was getting comfort out of it.</p>
<p>“Thank you sweetie.”  Krolia beamed proudly.  “Now all we need to do is pick out a color scheme.”</p>
<p>Ooh, she almost got him.  She and Alana had been trying to pry the gender out of him and Hunk ever since doing the calculations and realizing that they might have received a hint at their last ultrasound.  Alana’s approach was about as subtle as a giant purple dinosaur and therefore easy to sidestep, but Krolia was capable of sneak attacks and had come really close to teasing out an answer more than once.</p>
<p>“Hunk and I were thinking about going with yellow,” Keith parried.</p>
<p>“That’s a nice color for a baby’s room, as long as you don’t pick a harsh shade,” Krolia riposted, “but you’re going to need a complimentary color to go with it.”  She remained tenaciously engaged.</p>
<p>“I really like red,” he feinted.</p>
<p>“For a baby’s room?”  </p>
<p>She’d responded to the beat just the way he’d hoped.  He should keep it going.  “Red is a power color.”</p>
<p>“That’s because in nature it’s a danger color!”</p>
<p>Okay maybe she was jumping on that beat harder than anticipated.  Disengage!  “We were also considering light purple to go with the yellow.”</p>
<p>Krolia stopped to think about that one a moment.  “That would look very nice.”</p>
<p>Whew, gender reveal successfully evaded once more.  Sunny remained just Sunny for another day, and Sunny’s parents had a little more time to think of a name without it turning into an episode of Family Feud.  Keith was starting to feel certain that he and Hunk were going to call the pup Sunny regardless of whatever wound up on the birth certificate, but it would still be nice to give their child an official name that wouldn’t result in pronunciation woes whenever a teacher called it out on the first day of class.  Keith had never personally experienced such issues, but Hunk had and he was just as motivated to save Sunny from a fate of <em>‘Herskull?  Hurtchill?  Yurick?  Yorache?’</em> as Keith was. Hunk admitted he’d gotten some family entertainment mileage out of the story where a teacher had called him Tissue Yoshi on the first day of junior high, but if it was all the same to Sunny’s parents they’d rather for Sunny to have a different sort of first day at school story to tell some day.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>It was a clear, cold day in the forties, which felt even colder on account of the humidity.  Perfect weather for going shopping.  Or so Lance convinced himself as he bundled out the door with Kai after he’d returned from dropping Shiro off at work.  Lance could have done this errand online from his office, but he’d always been a very tactile person where clothes were concerned.  Maybe it came from being the grandson of a tailor.</p>
<p>He had a popular boutique and a large department store on his agenda for today.  There were other stores on his radar, but he thought those two would be enough for his first foray into dressing for the bump.  He needed some inspiration, and a few outfits he could wear in situations where Shiro’s old sweats wouldn’t cut it.  First up was the department store.  He could get some casual clothes and something fashionable enough to wear into the boutique, and also grab some lunch afterwards.</p>
<p>He did quite well initially with only a little bit of guidance from the sales associate, finding twill trousers, ponte knit leggings, stretchy jeans and even sleep pants all designed with side panels that could expand with the bump.  He’d also found a pair of faux leather leggings that he planned to send to Keith.  He’d set aside a variety of sweaters, button-front shirts, a fabulous crepe blazer and a drape front jacket on his growing pile of stuff that was definitely going home with him.  He got some more hipster panties to supplement what he already owned, and then he hit the first test of his clothing knowledge.  Objectively he knew that he needed to invest in a maternity bra (or really, several) but the only kinds of bras he’d ever worn before had been strictly for ornamental purposes.</p>
<p>“For male omegas we usually recommend the seamless clip-down styles.”  The sales associate was a male omega himself, so Lance trusted he knew his stuff.  “They offer comfortable teat support that can expand and retract as necessary throughout the pregnancy and post-delivery.”</p>
<p>Lance selected the racer-back one in several colors and let the sales associate, who had introduced himself only by his surname of Garcon, wrap up his entire order aside from what he was wearing out of the store.  Garcon wrapped himself up a big commission with that order, and he’d get a hearty recommendation on top of that the next time Lance was in front of a computer.  He changed into one of the jeans and sweater outfits and then he and Kai got spaghetti at the department store’s eatery.</p>
<p>Next stop was the boutique.  The overstuffed chairs strategically positioned in runway-like dressing room halls, along with the abundance of fresh flowers and the decorating scheme of everything frilly and cream was giving him flashbacks of wedding gown shopping.  After explaining to the head sales consultant that Kai was not his pup’s father but rather the father’s trusted retainer, Lance was offered one of the larger dressing rooms along with a dedicated helper and a cold ginger ale, the latter of which he gave to Kai.  The casual clothing options were not all that different from what the department store had on display, aside from a yoga outfit that Lance thought might come in handy for the prenatal Pilates class Shiro had talked about joining together.  However, the formalwear options were extensive and well worth the extra trip.</p>
<p>Lance found a wool long line coat, a black bouclé suit, a jersey knit jumpsuit and wonder of wonders, mantyhose with a stretchy support belly-band.  Now if Shiro needed to attend some fancy shindig or another, Lance wouldn’t have to sit it out.  He’d have the clothes.  The boutique also had an assortment of stylish ergonomic shoes meant to relieve back pain.  He was initially overjoyed to see this, but his joy soon turned to foreboding when the sales consultant innocently made a suggestion.</p>
<p>“It would be better to go up a half size, serah, just in case your feet get bigger.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean in case my feet get bigger?”  Lance already had jackrabbit feet, he didn’t need them to get any bigger!</p>
<p>The sales consultation’s smile froze.  She was probably imagining her commission shrinking before her very eyes.  “It’s very common in pregnancy, serah, but our ergonomic shoes can help minimize the effects.”</p>
<p>Lance didn’t like to think of himself as a ‘shoot the messenger’ type of person.  It wasn’t this lady’s fault that pregnancy could apparently make feet grow (how could his sisters-in-law sit on this info, this kind of thing was important to know).  If anything, she’d done him a solid by delivering the warning.  He made the purchase he had planned on making and bought the recommended shoes as well, but as soon as he got home he was going to be making an appointment with a podiatrist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>After driving without stopping all the way from that diner in New Hampshire to Bangor International Airport, the sight of Ryan standing tall next to a Cessna Golden Eagle had lifted everybody’s flagging spirits.  The twin engine aircraft could carry them away fast enough that there would be little chance of turning a corner and running into Macidus or one of his goons by unhappy accident.  The plane was stocked with snacks and registered with a flight plan to Wisconsin that Ryan was planning to change after takeoff.  They had just reached altitude when a change in orders was relayed through Ryan’s satellite phone.  Instead of a redirecting their flight for bluegrass country where an agent would be waiting to take the boys into protective custody, they were on their way to O’Hare for their first refuel to return to California.  Koloman Maahox had been spotted in Los Angeles and Alor Herakles was still resisting going into hiding.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“You sure we’ve thought of everything?”</p>
<p>Rolo was concerned about adding Zethrid to the team.  It was understandable.  Zethrid was the best deterrent an omega could ask for as a bodyguard, but she wasn’t exactly gifted at diplomacy, which made sending her out to tag along on dates kind of dicey.  That was why Nyma had come up with this plan to host their first official social mixer.  Previously they’d been relying on the alpha clients to provide the venues and entertainment for these things, but that didn’t have to happen anymore now that they had more staff to spread around.</p>
<p>“None of these alphas are gonna try anything stupid with Zethrid on the door,” Nyma reassured him.  “We need to start hosting our own parties, and with two bodyguards on duty it’s doable.”</p>
<p>Also, it had been Zethrid who’d had the connections to know who to ask about renting a hall at the American Legion.  She was a veteran, who knew?  They couldn’t afford live music, only the use of the jukebox and the canteen, but the premises had that respectable atmosphere that places where lots of old people danced over the years tended to have.  The alpha and omega clients should feel comfortable enough to relax, and as long as Zethrid kept her post by the door nobody would ever be in any danger of getting punched.  Nobody who was supposed to be there, that is.</p>
<p>“How do I look?”  Lorn had gussied himself up as much as he could afford to in a powder blue suit with a navy blue shirt.  He wasn’t there to ride herd as a member of the staff this time though, he was there to meet alphas and hopefully make his own match.</p>
<p>“You look great,” Rolo said.  “I’m sure you’ll meet somebody worthy of you tonight.”</p>
<p>Rolo was still annoyed that the Caspian woman had left Lorn hanging.  Nyma was annoyed that Caspian left Lorn hanging around to be a distraction to Rolo.  It wasn’t like she was jealous or anything, it was just business.  Anyway, the upshot was that both of them were hoping Lorn got swept off his feet, but for different reasons.  </p>
<p>Neither of them were quite prepared when Mary Ann Caspian walked in looking like a ballerina bullfighter in a gold tank top with a red tulle skirt.  She was either ready to dance or ready to fight, it was kind of hard to tell for sure in that outfit.  Zethrid was right up in her face just like she was supposed to be, because Caspian wasn’t on the guest list.  Caspian’s scent poured back just as aggressively.  She definitely recognized Zethrid, but she didn’t call her out on being associated with the kingpin she was trying to pin down.</p>
<p>“I just want to talk to Lorn,” Caspian insisted.  “I want to explain myself and ask for another chance.”</p>
<p>Lorn stepped around Zethrid to face his one time paramour.  “If you really want another chance, you should ask me to dance.”</p>
<p>Mary Ann held out one freckled hand.  “Will you do me the honor of a turn around the floor?”</p>
<p>Zethrid looked to Rolo and Nyma.  Rolo nodded.</p>
<p>“I accept the dance,” Lorn said, taking her hand.  “You have until the end of it to give me an explanation worth hearing more.”</p>
<p>Mary Ann led Lorn onto the dance floor as the singer on the jukebox crooned.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  I’m cryin’, ooh baby, baby  ♬</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Tatsuo prepared sencha in the kyusu pot in his son’s kitchen, briefly rinsing the leaves before steeping them in hot water from the electric dispenser on the counter top.  Ayako Kumai had dropped in on him just as he was preparing the first infusion, so he had offered to share, and she had politely accepted.  The pot, and the yunomi cups waiting on the tray, were enameled with a design of kikyō flowers, something Ryu had chosen for himself when he’d stayed in this apartment on business trips.  Tatsuo had always preferred benibara, but Kuro liked the tea set too, so there was no reason to replace it.  Kuro was now the householder in this apartment, and Tatsuo a guest.</p>
<p>Now Kuro was away attending a cheer dance class while Tatsuo played host to his favorite dance coach in the living room, which was decorated in soothing shades of pale azure (again, according to Ryu’s preferences).  When Tatsuo had expressed reservations about his son wearing a tiny uniform in front of hundreds of excited baseball fans, Kuro had informed him that cheer dance class was held inside a studio with only other students and trainers present, and besides it offered him an opportunity to learn many stunts that he might not learn in his other dance classes.  The boy was determined to increase his skills in all available directions.  Tatsuo couldn’t help but admire his firmness of intention.  He would therefore hold his peace, and he would speak with this favored teacher of jazz-funk dance using respectful manners.</p>
<p>He served the tea.  They sipped and made pleasantries.</p>
<p>“It is very kind of you to speak with me on such short notice, Shirogane-san,” Ayako said, finally coming around to the point of her visit.</p>
<p>“It is my pleasure to meet someone who has shown kindness to my son,” Tatsuo replied.  As he understood it, this was the teacher who was primarily responsible for Kuro’s rise in fortunes at the specialized training college.</p>
<p>“It is not a kindness to recognize true talent,” Ayako said, “which is why I would like to discuss with you a way to enable your son to continue nurturing that talent.”</p>
<p>Tatsuo felt a mingling of pride and dread.  “You may proceed, Kumai-san,” he said.  “I will listen.”  If she had come at the behest of Dai Rin she would soon regret her visit.</p>
<p>“Our school is proud to offer study abroad experiences to qualified students, among whom your son is one of a select group this year,” Ayako said, sitting up straight with her hands elegantly posed around the yunomi cup in an attempt to hide that she was squeezing it with her fingertips.  “One of our partner schools is located in Manhattan, which I am told is also the home of Shirogane Takashi.”</p>
<p>Ayako went on to describe an opportunity that could further Kuro’s goals while at the same time putting him out of the reach of Dai Rin, and then it was Tatsuo who was holding warmed ceramic tightly by the fingertips in an attempt to contain his excitement.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Hys Herakles was a formidable woman who spoke her mind with the frankness of one who was rarely countermanded.  Colleen thought that she would not allow these interlopers inside her comically large cottage-style house, making them wait outside by the brick oven.  But she had let them in, and the reasons, which she took the time to explain as she ushered them off her front porch, were that she believed they needed to have an accounting, that it was a conversation that might take some time, and that she didn’t want it happening where a satellite image of them all gathered together might conceivably wind up on the internet.  So that was how Colleen wound up sitting down to dinner with a rich old wild woman, her nephew who looked hauntingly like Colleen’s own son, Colleen’s son-in-law, and three of her sworn enemy’s illegitimate children.</p>
<p>She couldn’t help but find the little girl, Lora, to be adorable, with her straight blonde hair swinging around her curious face every time she turned her little head to engage with another of the new people sitting around her family’s dinner table.  She sort of reminded Colleen of Katie as a small child, except that Katie had worn pigtails just as soon as her baby curls had grown long enough for Colleen to put them in scrunchies.  The assertive inquisitiveness was where they were most similar, with a lot of ‘why’ questions being directed at the grownups.  </p>
<p>Cossack seemed charmed at the prospect of having a little sister, answering her questions as seriously as if he were being interviewed by Walter Cronkite.  Morgil, by contrast, looked like he was ready for the carnival to stop so he could get off this ride.  Colleen wasn’t sure how Hys expected to have a productive conversation with a talkative toddler and a taciturn teen at the table, but it was her table so she’d let the woman have the floor for the moment.</p>
<p>“I understand that man’s associates have been seen roaming about,” Hys said, passing the oyster crackers down the table.  They were having Lora’s favorite for dinner: chili spaghetti.  “I have no idea why you would suggest that my darlings should leave the safety of this property under such dire circumstances.”</p>
<p>“We’re only trying to keep them out of the reach of those dangerous associates,” Ryan said as he seasoned his dish with Tabasco sauce before handing the bottle off to Morgil.</p>
<p>“They don’t seem to be having any trouble going wherever they so desire,” Hys replied.  “It would be far more sensible to have your protective detail stay here, so that they may snatch up the scoundrels if they dare to trespass.  I have three guest bedrooms available for your people to stay in.”  She paused to sprinkle some cheddar cheese on her chili spaghetti.  “Also the bunkhouse, but that will only be empty until bud break.”</p>
<p>“I would be honored to serve and protect your environs,” said Cossack while gazing only at Alor, who flushed and looked at his plate with a funny little smile on his face.</p>
<p>Wow.  Really?  If there was a horndog gene, it must run in the Manigford family.</p>
<p>“If we stay here, can I have the bunkhouse to myself?” asked Morgil, and then Colleen got an idea.</p>
<p>“No,” she said, meeting Ryan’s eyes across the table and hoping that he would catch the hint and go along with the plan that was forming in her head.</p>
<p>“Bogus!”  Morgil buried his disappointment in chili spaghetti.</p>
<p>“Young lady, I fail to see the logic in denying these boys comfort in their hour of need.”</p>
<p>It had been a long time since anybody had called Colleen ‘young lady’ but Hys possessed the personal grandeur to make that not sound preposterous.</p>
<p>“Precisely,” Colleen said.  “That’s why Morgil should stay inside the main house with Deputy Cossack and Captain Kinkade if we do as you suggest and establish a security detail.  How many people can the bunkhouse hold?”</p>
<p>“I usually house four extra hands there seasonally,” Hys said.  “If you’re planning on installing your people there, they cannot stay past the vernal equinox.”</p>
<p>Colleen answered Ryan’s concerned frown with what she hoped conveyed confident resolve.  If they were able to sneak in a few extra agents to lie low in that bunkhouse while Morgil and Cossack remained in the open as bait, then they might be out of there before Spring had even sprung.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“So what do you think?”  Hunk held up a yellow daisy decal in front of a swatch of paint on the wall.  “I’m kind of partial to the Morning Shine color, but the Vienna Dawn is nice too.”</p>
<p>Hunk and Keith had gone to the hardware store to look at swatches of zero VOC paint and wound up taking home several samples in different shades of pale lavender.</p>
<p>“Easter Bunny is definitely out of the running,” Keith said, hands on hips.  “I thought I’d like Winged Victory better, but it’s too grey for the baby’s room.”  He’d keep that in mind for the addition though, whenever they got around to building it.  He picked up a decal to hold out in front of him like Hunk was doing.  They’d chosen yellow flowers with butterflies in a multitude of colors to go on the walls once they were painted.  “You know what?  I like Morning Shine too.”</p>
<p>Hunk smiled.  “Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Keith smiled back.  “It’s perfect.”</p>
<p>It was a pale rosy purple like the color of earliest dawn, but a little more purple than the Vienna Dawn, which was more like a light mauve.  Hunk put his arm around Keith, and Keith leaned into the half-embrace, imagining how the room would look with the paint and the decals, and the furniture his mother had helped him pick out and put on layaway since they wouldn’t need it for a few more months.  This room was going to be just right before Sunny’s arrival.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro had assumed that the interruption to his morning had come from Lance, and had taken the call in his office, only to discover that the ‘family matter’ referenced by N7 was of a different nature.  He would have to arrange for N7's learning parameters to be expanded to glean the world of difference between a call from Lance and a call from his stepmother.  He only hoped none of his senior staff were listening in.  None of the temps knew the feature codes to do that, but Daniel did and was just impetuous enough that only Rachel could hope to talk him into resisting his curiosity.  Omnia had been too distracted lately to be much help curbing Daniel’s impulses; Shiro hoped he hadn’t been pushing too much responsibility onto her too quickly with the sudden growth of his enterprise.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Just because your gimai is getting married during the same month does not mean you cannot plan for Seventh Night.”</em>
</p>
<p>Shiro couldn’t believe that Tatsuo was on him from an ocean away about the naming ceremony with Lance only halfway through the pregnancy.  It wasn’t as if Tatsuo was even going to be present when the ceremony eventually took place.</p>
<p>Dear god, he didn’t actually expect to be present did he?</p>
<p>“I’m going to be hosting a houseful of in-laws for most of that month oba-san, I simply don’t know where I would put anyone else,” Shiro stammered.</p>
<p><em>“Well I certainly hope you would find room for your own otouto-san,”</em> Tatsuo said tartly.</p>
<p>“Kuro-chan?”  Shiro’s moment of anxiety passed in the warmth of affection for his little brother.  “Of course I would make room for him, he can stay with us any time.”</p>
<p><em>“Then it is settled.”</em>  Tatsuo sounded very smug.  <em>“You will meet Kuro-kun and his chaperone at JFK on the twenty-fifth of March.”</em></p>
<p>“March twenty-fifth is this month,” Shiro said dumbly.</p>
<p><em>“Yes it is,”</em> Tatsuo agreed serenely, <em>“and he will stay with you through the fifth of August.”</em></p>
<p>“Isn’t Kuro supposed to be in school for that time frame?” Shiro asked, and then Tatsuo finally explained to him about the study abroad program, because it wouldn’t be Tatsuo unless he asked for a favor in the most round-about way he possibly could.  On the one hand, Shiro was going to have a very full house come July.  On the other, he’d get to spend time with his little brother, and his mate would have the company of another omega for the remainder of his pregnancy.  There was no question but that he was going to comply with Tatsuo’s request.</p>
<p>Shiro was already making plans as he ended the call.  He’d put off installing another washlet in the house because Lance had moved into the master bedroom sooner than anticipated, but that would need to be done now in whichever bedroom they put Kuro in.  Originally the second washlet was going to be installed in the bathroom attached to Lance’s former bedroom, but now that room was going to be the nursery.  The nursery, which was still only half-finished.  He was going to need Lance’s help with this one.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance received a referral over the phone to a podiatrist with offices in the same building as Shiro’s optometrist.  It was a seven minute walk away from the house in weather that was tolerably cold, and Lance wasn’t yet willing to resort to extremes to keep his feet from exploding into Bigfoot proportions, so he took the walk but took his time, enduring nothing more intense than the alluring scent of a nearby coffee shop as he shuffled his coat-wrapped form indoors.  He took off a layer as he took the elevator up to a small office with a waiting room tastefully decorated in cool blue and white, sitting down across from a teenage beta girl who smiled at him and struck up a conversation.  This was something positive he’d noticed as his pregnancy became more visible: the willingness of strangers to warm up to him faster than if he hadn’t been sporting a belly.  He knew from watching Lisa’s pregnancies and hearing Dorma recount stories of her own that he was a month or two away from strangers trying to touch the bump, but for now he’d just enjoy the side benefit of being viewed as more approachable, which was a free ticket to be as big of a chatterbox as he pleased.</p>
<p>The girl, Patty, was the captain of her high school soccer team and fresh off of leading them to a championship victory.  Now her sweet sixteen was coming up, her parents wanted to do it up right and so they had decided that the corns and bunions must come off before she got dressed up.  Patty wasn’t looking forward to having to wear high heels, while Lance only wished he still could wear high heels. Patty was called to accompany a physician’s assistant to an exam room, so Lance sat back and paged through a magazine until he was called back for his own appointment.  Much to his surprise it was one of the practice’s partners, Doctor Ebbs, meeting him in the exam room.  He’d honestly expected an RN with how quickly he’d been given an appointment.  </p>
<p>Doctor Ebbs smiled patiently at his confusion.  “Generally we prefer one of the partners to see new patients first,” he said.  “It’s just your lucky day that I had a spot open up.  Now, I understand you’re concerned about how your pregnancy will affect your feet?  Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll have a look at their current condition.”</p>
<p>Lance sat in the adjustable chair, which turned out to have separated foot rests so that the doctor could raise and lower each foot at the time as he removed Lance’s shoes and socks to examine them.  Doctor Ebbs expressed approval that he was already wearing good quality ergonomic shoes and Lance silently congratulated himself for listening to that sales consultant the previous day.  Doctor Ebbs explained that Lance was going to experience an increase in the hormone relaxin, which would cause all of his ligaments to loosen, including those in his feet.  It was the bones in his feet spreading out that would make them appear larger, although in terms of pure mass they would not actually be larger.  Lance personally felt that if he had a wear a bigger shoe size then that point was immaterial.</p>
<p>Doctor Ebbs took out his scrip pad.  “I am going to prescribe you custom-made orthotics to put in your shoes, but I cannot guarantee that they will prevent the foot spread that brought you in today,” he said.  “The concerns I can address are your naturally high arches and your complaint of back pain.  I believe that the orthotics will help prevent overpronation and bring you some relief.”  He scribbled on the pad.  “I would also recommend that you consider picking up some Velcro sneakers and compression socks, for comfort.”</p>
<p>Lance had walked in with a vanity complaint and walked out with a solution for a medical complaint, so he couldn’t exactly complain some more.  Except that he still felt like whining (how the heck could anybody be expected to make Velcro sneakers look fashionable) but there was nobody to whine with, so he went inside the indie coffee shop and asked the barista to make him something decaffeinated but make it so frothy he could pretend it was caffeinated.  The barista laughed with him and made him a hot cereal drink with a mountain of coconut whipped cream on top of it.  Lance turned sipping his drink, intending to take it over to a table near the window where he could go and feel pathetic while watching people walk by with their normal-sized non-growing feet, and nearly walked into Antor Antonov’s chest.</p>
<p>“Whoa!”  Antor put a steadying hand on Lance’s shoulder and smiled when he recognized him, but there was a thread of panic behind his light brown eyes.  “Lance, hey!  Look at you, you’re pregnant!  There must be something in the water.”  Then he laughed, and it was the laugh of a man who realized that he just might be losing his mind.  “I gotta motor.”  He held up a to-go cup of hot joe that a barista down the counter had handed him.  “Peace!”  He took off out of the coffee shop with speed Lance could only envy at this point in time.</p>
<p>Lance got a seat at a communal table near enough to the window to get the view he’d been craving, only now his mind was busy trying to work out what the hell had just happened.  The last time he’d seen Antor, he’d been in a happy mood, getting along great with Omnia as they proceeded to hog the microphone for the rest of the night.  Antor’s singing voice was not at Omnia’s level, but she didn’t seem to care, enjoying the undivided attention of a hot young guy.  In fact, he was pretty sure they ‘d left together.  Hadn’t Shiro said that Omnia had been acting funny recently, too?</p>
<p>
  <em>“There must be something in the water.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Oooh...”</p>
<p>“Are you going to be sick, dear?” asked a little old lady sitting next to Lance.  “I have mints.”</p>
<p>Lance thanked the little old lady for her kind offer and reassured her that he wasn’t about to ruin their clean table.  He sincerely hoped his little attempt at matchmaking hadn’t accidentally ruined things for Omnia.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>“Haha wants to send either Izu or Nagato with me, but he is not sure that he will be able to acquire the correct business visa for one of them in time.”</em>
</p>
<p>Pidge sat in her apartment’s loft office with Bae Bae resting on the coveted spot of her feet while Gunther sat next to her chair.  She drank in the sight of Kuro sitting up in rumpled black sheets as he told her all about his day.  He was going to be on the same continent as her within the month and she couldn’t wait.  She was going to feel his heartbeat under her cheek again even if it was only for one more fleeting moment in an airport.  Kuro’s student visa had gone through with no problems, although Pidge was sure that Shiro could have brought him into the country as a dependent if he’d had to.  Tatsuo wanted to send Kuro over with a chaperone, and given the kind of comments his latest video had attracted Pidge could only heartily approve, but the wait time to get the appropriate visa for one of the bodyguards was longer than the amount of time they had left to prepare.</p>
<p>It would probably be a bad idea to send one of them over to guard Kuro for six months on just a tourist visa.  Pidge had been idly scanning her calendar out of the corner of her eye, one part of her mind already on the task of figuring out how to carve time out of her schedule to see Kuro, and that was when she remembered something awesome.  She was free from classes between the twentieth and the thirtieth, which was not technically a spring break except that it totally was.  She hadn’t been planning on doing anything concrete with the time, just putting in some extra hours at Hawkins and getting a head start on reading her Spring Quarter textbooks.  How much better would some of that time be spent with Kuro?</p>
<p>“I could meet you at LAX,” Pidge said.  “I can chaperone you to JFK, and then we could spend a few days together at Shiro’s place, and then his bodyguard can take over.”</p>
<p>What better chaperone for Kuro than the one who wanted a future with him, and what better bodyguard than one who already knew their way around Manhattan?  Pidge was sure she could boss her way into one Shiro’s guest bedrooms through the twenty-ninth, and if her parents ever came home from the back of beyond then they owed her some dogsitting duties.  She’d have to put in longer hours at work between the twentieth and the twenty-fourth to make it happen, but it would so be worth it.</p>
<p><em>“Oh Pidge, I love this plan!”</em>  Kuro bounced on the platform bed and Pidge lost a few brain cells watching this.  <em>“But how will you convince Haha to allow us to do this?”</em></p>
<p>That was a fair question.  Pidge’s current capital with Tatsuo stretched only as far as her ability to prevent opportunists from leaping on Kuro, and she knew that.  Fortunately, she now also knew somebody else with more sway.</p>
<p>“I’m going to appeal to a mutual ally.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shinji had been noodling on the Yamaha upright piano when the call came in.  Retreating to his home office, which was outfitted to perform double duty as a small music studio, was a favorite after dinner pastime when he didn’t have Tatsuo’s company to brighten the evening hours.  There had been a time when he’d considered producing as a career path, but his school advisors had convinced him that his natural sociability would be better suited to work outside the studio than within it.  He checked caller ID.  Kuro-kun’s suitor was calling him?  How curious.</p>
<p>He took the video call at his desk.  Pidge, too, appeared to be sitting in a home office, but it was a bright sunny day where she was.  Shinji nodded in greeting.</p>
<p>｢Ah, Pidgu-san, it has been a while, has it not?  How have you been?｣</p>
<p>Pidge returned his nod before speaking.  <em>｢Yes it has been some time.  I am fine, and you?｣</em> Her command of Nihongo was definitely improving.</p>
<p>｢I am also fine.  How may I be of assistance to you, Pidgu-san?｣ For surely she had not called him just to practice her Nihongo.</p>
<p>Shinji’s theory was borne out as Pidge began to explain the reason for her call.  He had known of Tatsuo’s frustrations with ensuring the presence of a guardian for Kuro’s anticipated stay with Shiro.  Personally he felt that the Shinobus were impeccably responsible guardians whose familiarity with New York City would make them the ideal candidates to look after Kuro’s welfare, but Tatsuo remained uncertain.  He seemed to be having difficulty with the notion that Shiro might not require his retainers to follow his pregnant spouse everywhere he went.  Shinji had tried to persuade him that Manhattan’s reputation for being dangerous was several decades out of date, but he was up against the imagination of a worried mother.</p>
<p>｢Pidgu-san, I fear that I may be of little help to you this time.｣ He very much doubted Kuro would be going to New York at all if Tatsuo had not perceived Dai Rin as the greater threat.</p>
<p>
  <em>｢Not even if you were to personally accompany Kuro-san all the way to New York to make sure that I behave like a gentlewoman, while also ensuring that Shiro’s home is adequately secure for Kuro-san to stay there?｣</em>
</p>
<p>Shinji’s perspective underwent a paradigm shift.  His presence would indeed allay many of Tatsuo’s fears.  It was very bold of Pidge to request this favor, but also very astute of her to have read the personalities involved and realized that it might work.  Shinji maintained a business visa that would allow him to make the trip with no difficulties.  He might even be able to arrange for some business meetings of his own as long as he was in town.</p>
<p>｢I believe your suggestion has merit, and I will relay it to Tatsuo-san, but Pidgu-san I must make clear that if Shiro-san does not have enough room to host all three of us in his home, then you and I will be staying in a hotel.｣</p>
<p>Shinji did not believe for one minute that Shiro didn’t have room for them; he’d visited the brownstone before and he knew how many guest bedrooms there were in that house.  However, he also knew that Tatsuo would not approve of Kuro staying under the same roof with a suitor without a chaperone present, and that sometimes fate was a fickle creature.  There was always a chance that there wouldn’t be enough room, and Pidge needed to understand that if even one of them couldn’t stay there, then both of them couldn’t stay.</p>
<p><em>｢I understand.｣</em> </p>
<p>She sounded resigned, but resolved.  Shinji was still inclined to believe that Kuro had selected well with that one.  All the same, he would call Shiro and run this idea past him before bringing it to Tatsuo.  The more elements were already in place, the less chance of Tatsuo rejecting it on a technicality.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Macidus had lost them.  One of his contacts had spotted them on I-95 near Portsmouth, and then it was if they’d dropped off the face of the Earth.  Macidus decided to reconnoiter in one of the easiest places to get lost in for a while: the city that never sleeps.  He wandered Central Park brainstorming how he was going to get the raw ingredients he needed to complete this big order when he didn’t know where they’d gone.  He veered off the bridle path and past an old stone playground with hardly any kids playing on it because it was too damn cold.</p>
<p>One other person was watching the few children who were out there climbing on bricks and drawing on obelisks with chalk.  A pregnant omega, by the tummy poking out of his coat.  Shame he probably wasn’t carrying anything Macidus could use.  There was something familiar about his half-turned face, though.  As the omega turned again and continued on towards wherever he was going, Macidus suddenly remembered where he’d seen that face before, and on instinct he decided to follow.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Amue had spent most of her day wandering museums, staring at art and hoping that the people staring at her were thinking of how classy she looked, and not wondering if her beautiful clothes were hiding a fungus.  Her usual contacts were avoiding her out of an irrational fear of contracting an infection that simply did not exist.  She’d had to resort to hanging around places where VIPs liked to gather in groups and sidle up to them as unobtrusively as possible, and she still only had piffle to post for later.  So a popular hostess didn’t actually make any of the dishes she served at her dinner parties, it was an open secret, nobody would care about having what they already knew confirmed.  If her lustrous hair was not naturally that color when she told everybody it was, then they’d care, but Amue hadn’t lucked into any clues that juicy.</p>
<p>She tugged her red coat on as she left the museum and strode out onto the sidewalk, and who should she spot shuffling along as if he weren’t indirectly responsible for all of her recent woes but Lance McClain de Shirogane himself.  He seemed lost in thought.  Amue decided to follow him.  Maybe he’d do something worth publishing in her blog, like squirt out a preemie right on the sidewalk or something.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“All three rooms on the guest floor are free,” Shiro said, pacing the office floor while he talked to his cousin on speaker phone.  He no longer gave a rip if Daniel was eavesdropping or not.  “I was going to put a washlet in the bathroom Kuro was going to be using, but I suppose I might as well upgrade all of them.  That way Kuro can pick which room he wants to stay in when he gets here instead of me having to try to guess which one will make him most comfortable.”</p>
<p>He’d thought Lance might have some insight into which guest bedroom would be best for Kuro, but Lance had gone to a podiatry appointment and apparently turned his phone off.  Shiro was trying to follow Hunk’s example and be zen about that.</p>
<p><em>“That sounds practical,”</em> said Shinji, who might well think so since he would benefit from that decision himself.  <em>“Perhaps you would consider adding a folding mirror to your music room as well?  Kuro might like to practice up there sometimes.”</em></p>
<p>That was a good point, and acquiring such an item might help distract Shiro from pointless worrying.  He’d get right on that.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Even before living in Los Angeles, Lance had developed a sense for when he was being watched.  His street career had simply fine tuned it.  He tried to slow down in front of windows to catch a glimpse of whoever might be tailing him, but they must be following from a distance because he never spotted more than the usual crowd of people he could expect to see around him on the sidewalk during the day.  Surrounded by people, yet he suddenly felt exposed.  He needed to get off the street.</p>
<p>Lance spotted a popular cosmetics store on the corner.  Perfect.  Unless whoever it was happened to be a fashionista, they’d stick out like a sore thumb in there.  Lance had even been inside this one before, so he knew the layout.  He strolled in and paused a moment to oh so casually look around.</p>
<p>He spotted a familiar face immediately, but it wasn’t the person following him unless Antor had learned how to teleport.  Lance walked toward his station at the store’s brow bar.  Antor looked up at his approach and his customer service smile took on a twitch.</p>
<p>“Hey there,” Lance said.  “I need a threading.”</p>
<p>“Yeah you do,” Antor agreed.  “Your brows are coming in thick enough to shampoo.”</p>
<p>Ouch.  The shade.  He wasn’t wrong though.  Did the hair on top of Lance’s head come in lushly due to hormones?  No, it was the hair hanging over his eyes, which he’d plucked only a week before and it was right back to looking like a pair of caterpillars took up residence on his forehead.</p>
<p>“Come on, have a seat.”  Antor waved Lance into a hydraulic recliner and dropped a box of tissues into his lap before pedaling the recliner back.  He knew he didn’t have to explain the tissues to Lance, because they both knew the threading was liable to make him sneeze.</p>
<p>“What brings you to my office besides those bushy brows?” Antor asked as he cleaned Lance’s brow area with cotton balls doused in witch hazel.</p>
<p>“Just thinking about something you said before you bolted.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”  Antor rolled out his thread and twisted it.  “What was that?”</p>
<p>“You mentioned something in the water.”</p>
<p>Antor laughed ruefully as he began threading around Lance’s temples.  “You don’t miss much, do you?”</p>
<p>Lance sneezed into a tissue.  “I guess it’s a good thing I decided to go into cosmetology instead of the matchmaking business.”</p>
<p>“Hold your eyelid for me.”</p>
<p>Lance held his eyelid taut so that Antor could thread his lower browline.</p>
<p>“You were right that I was going to like Omnia,” Antor said as he rapidly shaped Lance’s eyebrow back into a lovely arch.  “I like her.  I like her a lot.  I want to date her.  Hold the other eyelid.”</p>
<p>Lance held the other eyelid.</p>
<p>“I want to date her, only now we have this thing that... I mean we kind of launched straight past the dating phase, you know?  And it’s not your fault, it’s not her fault.  I’m pretty sure it’s my fault, it’s just, I don’t know what to do about it.  She’s got all the cards, and I guess that’s fair. You know, under the circumstances.”</p>
<p>Antor pedaled the chair back upright and handed Lance a mirror so that he could view his frowning face now framed by beautiful brows.</p>
<p>“Does she know you want to date her?”</p>
<p>“Would it even matter?”</p>
<p>Lance turned away from the mirror to look up at his former classmate.  “You’re never going to know unless you ask.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Macidus watched the blonde following his target, but did not interfere.  He wasn’t worried that she’d be made.  She was keeping an adequate distance and keeping other pedestrians between herself and the target, so even with that red coat on she wouldn’t be that easy to spot.  Not too bad for a cream puff.  If by some chance the omega spotted her, that just meant he’d be less likely to notice Macidus.  </p>
<p>The omega definitely knew somebody was watching him, as he suddenly veered off the sidewalk to duck into a beauty shop.  Macidus couldn’t follow him in there without attracting unwanted attention, but there was a bus stop nearby where he could wait around awhile.  The cream puff, on the other hand, went right in.  That was fine.  Macidus would pretend to wait for a bus and see which one of them came out first.</p>
<p>Five minutes later it was the cream puff, smiling like she’d just found the perfect tiny dog to match her new designer purse.  Macidus fell into step beside her as she marched down the sidewalk.</p>
<p>“Find what you needed in there?” he asked.</p>
<p>Her padded shoulders stiffened under that red wool coat.  “I’ve got pepper spray.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need it,” he said.  “I just want to compare notes about the omega you were following.”</p>
<p>“I’m not a stalker,” she was quick to say.</p>
<p>“Neither am I,” he lied.</p>
<p>“He married one of the most eligible bachelors in town,” she said.  Was that a touch of bitterness in her tone?  “The people have a right to know if he’s going around making pregnancy pacts.”</p>
<p>“Of course they do,” Macidus said reasonably, gauging which button to push.  “Just like they have the right to know that his daddy was a stool pigeon.”</p>
<p>“Like the ones on The Wire?”</p>
<p>She was confusing stool pigeon with snitch but that wasn’t important.  What was important was that he had her curiosity tweaked.</p>
<p>“Sure,” he said.  “How about I treat you to a drink?  I could tell you some stories that would curl them pretty goldilocks up like Christmas ribbons.”</p>
<p>“There’s a Starbucks up ahead,” she said warily.  “We can go in there.  If you have anything good you can share my byline, but if you post before me and there are inaccuracies, I won’t be held liable.”</p>
<p>“That’s fine,” he said.  </p>
<p>Macidus didn’t give a damn about this girl’s byline, but he was getting a sense that she might be malleable in useful ways.  She might even be moldable into a better moll than Orla ever was, if he had the pleasure of her company for long enough to find out.  There was no denying that Orla was smart as hell and hotter than a gas flame, but man was he ever tired of that broad snooping into his personal business.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Orla sat across from her old colleague in an interview room, wishing for a smoke that she couldn’t have because this was a nonsmoking building.  It was a nasty habit anyway, and one she should kick as soon as possible.  She sipped her water and shifted her bare legs under the table.  She had to be spotted being led into interview for the benefit of her former associates hanging around in the hallway waiting for their turn, but the interview taking place was completely different from what they could expect.  Hers was a debrief.</p>
<p>“Why did you hold off on reporting the dynamic experiments for so long?” Caspian asked.  She was wearing makeup, which was very unlike the woman Orla remembered.  “Why did you wait so long for extraction?”</p>
<p>Orla felt a bit at sea.  She’d been under for too long.  “I didn’t,” she said, “but when I tried to send a package, my runner was found and killed.”  She swallowed more water.  Chip’s death would probably haunt her for the rest of her life.  “By some fricking miracle Macidus never figured out that he’d gotten his evidence from me.  I knew if I wasn’t more careful somebody else was going to get hurt.”  Not everybody involved with Macidus’s operation was a hardcore maniac.  Some of those escorts were just trying to get by as best they could.  “I got word out as soon as the opportunity presented itself.”</p>
<p>Thank goodness for Ezor coming to her trying to win brownie points.  Nyma may never realize that Orla had probably saved her life by sending her out with her little care package.</p>
<p>Caspian nodded and looked at her notes.  “What about the three known by the street names of Nyma, Ezor and Zethrid?  How deep was their involvement in Druid’s criminal activities?”</p>
<p>Orla snorted.  “You mean Larry, Curly and Moe?  They knowingly ferried party drugs and helped launder money.  They unknowingly ferried contraband goods a few times.  They babysat some prostitutes on occasion.”  She shrugged.  “They never carried out hits, and they didn’t know shit about the dynamic experiments.”</p>
<p>Caspian let out a breath.  “Thank heaven for that at least.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance called Kai from inside the cosmetics store to ask for a ride and found out that Shiro had been trying to get in contact with him.  He took the phone off forward to voice mail and checked recents.  Sure enough there were a billion missed calls.  He called Shiro while waiting near the glass front doors for Kai to pull up to the curb.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hi honey, I’ve been trying to reach you, I’ve got exciting news!  Kai just told me he’s on his way to get you, are you feeling okay?  We can get dinner on the way home if you like, I’ve got something big to share!”</em>
</p>
<p>Lance sagged against a display case full of lipsticks, so relieving was it to hear Shiro’s voice on the other end of the line.  His inner omega was instantly comforted.  One part of him wanted to tell his alpha everything that had happened that afternoon, and another still wanted to be able to leave the house without a full security detail.</p>
<p>“I’m fine querido, I just need to get orthotic inserts for my shoes so my arches don’t fall,” he said, and then he sweet-talked Shiro into agreeing to stop at the place that had the garlic knots he liked.</p>
<p>He’d be more careful leaving the house in the future, that was all.  Shiro already worried about so many things, and he was soon going to have to worry about his office manager.  He didn’t need to worry about this too, if it could even be called a thing since nothing had actually happened.  Lance trusted his instincts too much to comfort himself with any notion that it had all been his imagination, but that didn’t mean there was likely to be a recurrence.  Whoever it was, they were probably long gone by now.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The cream puff, whose name was Amue, easily commandeered a small table as the other patrons seemed to want to give her plenty of space.  Interesting.  Maybe she really was as important as she seemed to think she was.  He produced cash to buy their drinks and she left him there to watch her purse as she got in the queue to order them each something from the reserve bar.  While she was doing that, Macidus quickly, unobtrusively and efficiently went through her handbag.  By the time she returned with drinks that were supposedly made with multiple brewing methods for sublime tasting notes, he knew enough about her to forge documents.</p>
<p>“So,” she said, tasting her drink and making a dissatisfied face, “everyone thinks that Shirogane got his bride from an international matchmaking service, but you say that his father was some kind of police informant in the city of Los Angeles?”</p>
<p>“Oh, Goldilocks.”  Macidus had himself a nice long chuckle.  “I don’t know where that boy’s mama is from, but I can tell you that his daddy is homegrown, and that’s for damn sure.”  In fact, since he’d started trying to place where else he might have seen that kid before, he remembered catching a popular floor act at the old Purple Imperial before he’d blackmailed a few people at City Hall into getting his competitor shut down.  “I think your friend Shirogane may have rescued that boy from the pole, is what I think.”</p>
<p>Amue’s blue eyes sparkled wickedly.  “Fascinating!”</p>
<p>It was fascinating how a creature who so resembled a child’s fashion doll could have such a thirst for blood hiding under her pearly brow.  Orla, for all her street smarts and effortless sexiness, had never displayed a thrill for the hunt like this woman-child did.  The things he could teach her.  His burner phone beeped at him.</p>
<p>“Beg pardon, milady, I must take this.”  He had the phone in his hand in less time than it took him to utter words of apology.  It was probably rude in refined company, but he had to read this incoming message.</p>
<p>“It’s no trouble,” said Amue, who had her own phone in her hand, one of those smartphones with the gigantic screen, and she was tap tap tapping away on it.  Maybe she was taking notes for that blog she was talking about.</p>
<p>Macidus read the coded message one of his contacts had sent him.  They’d tracked his quarry to a house out in Wine Country.  Smelled like a trap, but what’s this?  The house belongs to a family by the name of Herakles, how common could that surname be?  And one of them even had a kid by the very same client he was presently trying to make an acquisition for.</p>
<p>“Say, Amue, how about we go and pay a visit to your little brother at his vineyard estate?”</p>
<p>“It’s not his estate,” she said primly, “it’s our aunt’s, and what would you want to see them for?  It’s in the middle of nowhere.”</p>
<p>Probably why the law chose it as a good place to lie in wait.  “My contact thinks your brother knows something of interest about Shirogane and his omega.”  The contact hadn’t actually mentioned Shirogane at all, but so far using his name had been a useful lever to get Goldilocks to do things she otherwise might not do.</p>
<p>Amue gave that a ponder.  “Alor did develop his delicate condition around the same time as Shiro and that rat of a lawyer of his were conducting a business deal with our elder brother.”</p>
<p>Did she really not know who the father of her own niece was?</p>
<p>“Perhaps Alor does know something.”  Amue nodded to herself.  “Typical of him to be secretive about it.  Pack whatever you need and meet me at Teterboro.  We’ll fly out there and confront him.”</p>
<p>“Yes ma’am.”  </p>
<p>Macidus had no luggage, he was traveling light.  He’d follow her to Teterboro Airport and then ditch the car.  He wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to use this dame as a distraction or a hostage, but he’d figure it out on the fly.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith hadn’t shortened his overall work hours yet, although Ilun had started flex-timing him so that his shifts never lasted longer than two hours at a stretch.  He’d accepted the job offer to work for Hawkins Aircraft Company running flight tests for supplementary type certificates on their modified GA models.  Obviously they didn’t want him running those flight tests while heavily pregnant, so Keith would remain on the hotel’s payroll a while longer, staying on their insurance plan through delivery, and then start his new job after maternity leave.  In the meantime Keith was pretty much on Hunk’s schedule, except that Keith got to kick his feet up in the break room every two hours, whereas Hunk’s day was more peripatetic.  Still, it was nice to be spending so much more time together and sharing meals more often, Keith fully intended to enjoy it for as long as he could.</p>
<p>One night they came home together to find a note from the moms on the refrigerator saying that they’d finished all the interior painting at the storefront location, so they’d decided to come over and paint the nursery while they were in the painting mood.  They walked into the nursery hand in hand and discovered that the room had been primed and painted in the Morning Shine color, with drop cloths still laid over floors and furniture, except for the daybed which they must have taken with them.  They’d even painted the trim and ceiling in palest yellow, and then apparently taken inspiration from the decals, which still sat on the kitchen table waiting for Keith and Hunk to apply them to the walls later.</p>
<p>“I wonder which one of them stenciled the butterflies up there,” Hunk said as they both looked up.</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Keith said with a smile, “but I like it.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro had hired workmen to come into the house and upgrade all of the rest of the toilets to washlets, under the supervision of Lance and Haruka, and unofficially of Atlas.  Anywhere in the house that someone was dealing with freely running water, Atlas was there, watching from the highest vantage point in the room like a kitty cat superhero avenger.  Lance found he didn’t mind staying home for once, answering questions from people with clipboards and tool belts.  He still felt an echo of the heebie jeebies from the mystery perv incident, assuming it was a perv and not just some random person who was hostile to the idea of omegas wandering around unescorted.  There were still places where an omega could get harassed for that, and New York was a city that attracted visitors from all over the world.</p>
<p>It had felt like a more personal than general danger though, in a way that left a lingering impression like a finger poked between the shoulder blades.  Perv was just the specific type of danger that Lance was most familiar with, and that he could put a name to.  It wouldn’t hurt anything to stay in just for a little while.  Anyway it was going to be nice having Kuro around later in the month, so Lance didn’t mind taking some time out of active life to make sure he’d be comfortable when he moved in.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro stood in the private bathroom attached to his office, hands on the sink as he stared soulfully into his own eyes in the mirror.</p>
<p>“Omnia, you know you can tell me anything, right?”</p>
<p>No, that made it sound like he was trying to ask her if she was stealing office equipment or something.  He knew she sometimes accidentally tossed office pens in her purse when she was in a hurry to get something done on her lunch break, and he didn’t care about that.  He needed a different approach.</p>
<p>“Omnia.”  He stood up straight and put on his best alpha in charge expression.  “You must tell me what is troubling you.”</p>
<p>No that was definitely worse.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you just ask her if she’s pregnant?”</p>
<p>“Gah!”  Shiro’s grip on the console sink saved him from barking his knees on the undermount.  “Daniel, don’t you ever knock?”</p>
<p>“I did knock, bossman, you just didn’t answer.”  So evidently he’d decided that meant he could just come right in.  “Listen, everybody else in the office has twigged to it already.  Even the temps.  You just need to like, man up.”  He smacked a fist in his hand.  “Confront her.”</p>
<p>“Intimidation tactics on a pregnant person just sounds wrong,” Shiro said.</p>
<p>Daniel leaned on the edge of Shiro’s desk.  “How did you get Lance to tell you?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t have to take the initiative.  He buttered me up with food and tried to get me drunk and then he told me.”  Of course!  That was the perfect plan.  “We should have a catered lunch for the office!”</p>
<p>“To get her drunk?”  Daniel sounded awfully offended for a guy who was just advocating intimidating a confession out of Omnia.</p>
<p>“No, that’s not what I meant.”  Shiro brushed past Daniel and went to the desk drawer that had all the takeout menus in it.  “We should just all relax together, good food, good times.”</p>
<p>“Still not seeing how a pregnancy confession fits into that.”</p>
<p>Shiro found the menu for the gyro place that he knew Omnia liked.  “Just go around and get everybody’s orders and let me handle the rest.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>If Macidus had been traveling alone, he’d have picked up some camping equipment and hiked across the state park to get to where that uppity feeb was hiding his merchandise.  Make her wait until she wondered if he was really coming, and then surprise!  But he wasn’t traveling alone.  He had Goldilocks with him, and there was no chance of him talking her into camping under the stars.  It had been hard enough convincing her to go along with the RV.</p>
<p>She had been impressed with the way he’d casually dropped 30k in cash on a twenty year-old dually and a late model travel trailer at the dealership.  For Macidus, having money wasn’t about feeding his appetites, or about impressing anybody, unless impressing somebody would buy him some influence.  It was about being able to go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted, and he could admit he’d been impressed by Amue’s jet share, he needed to get in on one of those.  But a motel was out of the question, unless he happened to own it.  They had cameras in those places.</p>
<p>The RV was much nicer inside than even his own house, but Goldilocks wasn’t appeased until she saw the queen bed dressed up in the gingham bedding that the RV dealer had sold him.  “But where will you sleep?” she’d asked, because of course she would expect to take the bedroom all for herself.  Macidus was gaining an impression of Goldilocks as an adventurous soul stymied by a lifetime of being told not to do things.  She was crossing boundaries, but from Macidus’s perspective it was slow going.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, he had an answer for this question that should suit both of them fine.  “I’ll take the sleeper sofa, of course.”  That way she could have the illusion of privacy, and she also couldn’t leave the RV unless Macidus wanted her to.</p>
<p>“Alright.”  Amue dropped her little purse and giant suitcase on the bed and stepped out into the camper’s living room.  “It’s too late to drop in on Aunt Hys today.  What will we do now?”</p>
<p>“Why, we’re gonna go grab a bite, naturally.”</p>
<p>They walked to the nearby cluster of restaurants and got a table in one of them, and that’s when Macidus discovered that this girl had never had a taste of proper BBQ before ever in her life.  One bite and she forgot all about the mess that the sauce could make.  What a picture.  Orla would have never let her face get smeared all over with red like that.  Manipulating Goldilocks into letting go of her inhibitions could be even easier than he’d first assumed.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro brought home pizza and garlic knots, and also Daniel and Rachel.  Daniel was cackling about something Shiro had done at work as they walked in the garden floor door.  Lance took the pizza boxes from Kai’s hands and brought them to the table as Haruka hurried to get plates.  He removed the boxes out of the insulated bag that Kai kept in the limo in case Shiro wanted to bring home takeout, and discovered that Shiro had gotten cauliflower crust on all of them.  Oh well, pizza was still pizza, and at least he’d remembered the garlic knots.</p>
<p>“They all thought he was being nice because he was getting ready to fire everyone!”  Shiro had evidently bought the whole office lunch, some incorrect inferences about that had been made among the temps, and Daniel thought the fallout was hilarious.  “Then he came up with this excuse!”  Daniel couldn’t finish his sentence from laughing.  Rachel’s lip was also twitching.  She’d been trying not to smile while scolding her fiancée for being too much.</p>
<p>“I made up a holiday,” Shiro said, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  “Happy Brave Paladin Day, everybody.”</p>
<p>Rachel patted Shiro’s shoulder, trying to look sympathetic but not quite succeeding.  “Maybe you could just ask Omnia if she needs to take some personal time.  She’s not as sharp as usual lately, everybody’s noticed.  Give her a chance to fess up on her own.”</p>
<p>“I suppose that could work,” Shiro said sheepishly.</p>
<p>As the six of them sat down to eat, Lance thought to himself that maybe he should make another try at convincing Antor to make his own confession.  This whole mess came about as a result of his own interference, so if anybody should be putting themselves out there trying to resolve it, then it should be Lance.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Fond as he was of audiovisual surveillance techniques, Maahox knew that planting bugs was not always the most efficient manner of ensuring that vital intelligence reached his ears.  Sometimes it was a simple matter of knowing who to pay, and what to offer as payment.  Hys Herakles had a neighbor who disapproved of the woman taking in her tarnished nephew and the child he’d borne out of wedlock, ‘flaunting’ the little adulterine about town as if she were as pure as any of the neighbor’s get.  This individual had been easy enough to find simply by using his granddaughter’s connections to get an invite to a wine tasting party in the area, and then making discreet inquiries as to the suitability of young Lora being taken in as a companion to his great great grandson.  This had been a fairly common solution to the problem of bastards in his great grandfather’s day, though Maahox would personally prefer not to do this, as he felt the girl was both too old and too well-born to defer to Sincline in the way that an heir’s companion should, and on that note he would also rather not make an open enemy of Hys Herakles if he could avoid it.</p>
<p>Mentioning any of the Herakles clan was like waving a red flag at this bull of a neighbor.  The busybody was happy to cause trouble for Herakles in hopes that Maahox could initiate some action resulting in young Alor and his lovechild being run out of town on a rail.  Maahox did not want the boy fleeing with his brat, quite the opposite, but he was happy to pretend he did if it would keep the neighbor’s gums flapping.  Besides, if he was successful, then soon Alor would have reason to think twice before allowing his child to leave the safety of the estate, which the neighbor should find nearly as satisfactory.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Colleen moved her meager baggage into the bunkhouse and was joined there within hours by Mary Ann Caspian, along with Agents Chukker and Newley.  The shed-sized building was just big enough to hold two sets of bunk beds and a wardrobe, but it afforded easy access to the woods circling around the west side of the property, which was the most likely vector for anyone hoping to stage an ambush.  Putting up with the tight quarters was well worth that accessibility.  They probably weren’t going to be doing much sleeping anyway.</p>
<p>Agent Caspian sat on her bunk with her phone in her hands.  “Come here and take a look at this.”</p>
<p>Colleen sat down on one side of her and Newley leaned over her other shoulder while Chukker kept a lookout at the window.  Caspian had her message app open showing an encrypted missive from an agent in New Jersey.  It seemed that Macidus had been spotted there in the company of a person of extreme interest who could possibly be considered endangered.  There was a photo album attached.  Caspian saved it and thumbed open her imaging app.</p>
<p>Suddenly they were looking at a picture of a young man with floppy brown hair, big brown eyes and a sweet smile for whoever took the picture.</p>
<p>“Whoops, sorry, one sec.”</p>
<p>Caspian swept through her images and found the ones sent over by the agent.  She blew up an image and sharpened it to get a better look at the blonde boarding a jet with tall skinny bald man, before flipping through images to get one with enough face showing to get a positive ID.  The skinny bald man turned his head enough in one shot that they didn’t need the facial recognition app to tell them that they were looking at the knife-sharp features of Macidus Drew.  The blonde took longer to place, but when the app finally spit out a driver’s license comparison and asked the user to either confirm or keep looking, that ID had to be accurate because otherwise it was one hell of a coincidence.  Caspian tapped to confirm.</p>
<p>“Looks like he’s got big sister,” Colleen said grimly.</p>
<p>“What does he want with her?” Newley asked.</p>
<p>“Knowing his disposition I’d want to say hostage,” Caspian said, “but she’s not acting like a hostage.”</p>
<p>“We’re going to need get a character witness statement from Hys Herakles,” Colleen said.  “I’ll go.”  If either of their prime targets had good intel on the kids being in the main house, then they were probably already aware that Colleen was on the premises, but they might not know about the other agents.</p>
<p>“We’ll hold the fort,” said Newley.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The moms hadn’t just painted the nursery.  They’d also brought over several tote bags full of hand-me-down maternity clothes.  Keith sorted through the bags, glad to find a lot of items he could use.  There were dark rinse overalls, sleep shirts with vibrantly colorful prints, and faded sweat suits turned buttery soft from multiple washes.  There was a red hibiscus muu muu that was going to be his new ‘lounging in the backyard with Kosmo’ outfit, and a whole bunch of silly message t-shirts that had to have come from Hina.</p>
<p>Keith set aside a shirt that said ‘We’re hoping it’s a giant robot’ to wear to the park the next day, and then he discovered the maternity bras.  He wasn’t showing teat yet, though there was a soreness in that area which promised it wouldn’t be too much longer before distention began.  The spandex crop top bras (probably Hina again) might be comfortable to wear at least until Sunny was delivered.  There were some nursing bras in the bag, made of doily-like lace but who was going to ever see that except for Sunny and maybe Hunk, neither of whom would care?  The nursing bras had thick shoulder straps (good), cup panels that folded down from the top (also good) and underwires (totally unnecessary for Keith’s purposes).</p>
<p>Keith took one of the lacy white garments out and held it up against his chest.  The bras had that stale flowery smell of having being taken out of a storage trunk recently.  They also had very full cups.  A Garrett woman definitely wore these.  He pinched the center seam of a cup and stretched it out to its full impressive girth.  No way was one of his teats ever going to fill that out.</p>
<p>Seized with inspiration, he snatched up his phone and took a selfie of himself half-wearing the bra, with one hand pulling out the cup to demonstrate the ludicrousness of it on him.  He sent the pic to Hunk and Lance, hoping for a laugh.  He got one quickly from Hunk, who’d gone out to the storefront location to talk to the construction crew pouring fresh concrete to replace the cracked sidewalks in front of the building.  <em>Lookin good lil mama</em>.  This was followed with a string of goofy smile emojis which made Keith smile in return even though Hunk couldn’t see it.</p>
<p>The response from Lance was unexpected.  <em>Send 2 me w/ur mesurment n I will fix 4 u</em>.  Huh.  Lance must be really confident in his sewing skills, or really bored.  Knowing Lance it was probably a combination of the two.</p>
<p>Keith texted back: <em>ok</em>.  Lance sent him thumbs up and winky face emojis.  Guess Keith better plan for a visit to the post office along with the park.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance smiled as he closed his messaging app.  Making adjustments to Keith’s inherited nursing bras would give him something to do while he was stuck in the great indoors.  Kalon had warned him that his busy season for henna nights was August through October, which Lance had felt was ideal at the time since it reduced his workload before the pup was born and might even give him a few weeks at home with the newborn before he was called into duty.  Now it just meant long stretches of free time during which he was going to be too pregnant for many salons to seriously consider taking him on.  He’d thought about taking his instagram account from low simmer to high boil while exploring parts of Manhattan he hadn’t gotten a chance to wander around in yet, but that was before the creepy sensation the other day.</p>
<p>However, there were prescription orthotics waiting for him at the podiatrist’s office which would be a lot simpler for him to pick up than to ask for them to be mailed, and there was a big dumb beta male waiting at a nearby cosmetics store to receive a good talking to.  Suck it up, Lance told himself as he put on one of his new outfits to get ready to go out.  He’d just leave his phone turned on, that way if by unlikely chance something did happen, Shiro would know where he was.  Maybe he ought to lean harder on Shiro to schedule that bo staff demonstration.  He’d been holding off on the promise of a Pilates class because Shiro in tight workout gear was always a treat for the eyes, but this was more important.</p>
<p>Lance knew from experience that danger didn’t always respect a person minding their own business, and sometimes didn’t even respect a locked front door.  He needed to be ready to defend his unborn pup, with his own body if necessary.  He strode off on his errand, head up and mind alert as he completed the pickup of his orthotics and headed back in the direction of his neighborhood.  He didn’t feel that creepy feeling again so he must have been right, that the danger was just passing through, but he would remain vigilant.  No lollygagging today, it was straight to the cosmetics store and then the rest of the way home.</p>
<p>Antor was on duty again at the brow bar, which Lance had figured he would be.  He’d been the kind of guy to schedule himself as many shifts as possible at the student salon so he didn’t figure that work ethic had changed.  He smirked as Lance approached his work station.</p>
<p>“Don’t even try to tell me you found a stray hair, because I know my own work.”</p>
<p>“Your work is top notch,” Lance said.  “I need my sideburns threaded.”</p>
<p>Both of Antor’s eyebrows went up; the pierced one, and the non-pierced one.  “That’s a choice,” he said.</p>
<p>Lance knew exactly what that look and that tone meant.  He wouldn’t consider himself to be as crazy pretty as Keith, but he also knew that his sideburns were one of the few obviously male signifiers of his outward appearance.  Removing the sideburns might result in strangers mistaking him for a lady until they got close enough to smell him or hear his voice, at least for the month or so until they grew back.  Sometimes caring about people meant making sacrifices, and Lance was about to temporarily sacrifice his sideburns.</p>
<p>“I know what I’m asking for,” Lance said as he gently lowered himself into the hydraulic recliner.  “Thread me.”</p>
<p>“Alright.”  Antor handed Lance the tissue box and tilted the chair back.  “I feel like I ought be making you sign a waiver for this.”</p>
<p>“Hair grows back over time, but time doesn’t wait for all things.”</p>
<p>“Anybody ever tell you subtlety’s not your strong suit?”  Antor started combing the hair away from Lance’s temples and holding it back with styling clips.</p>
<p>“All the damn time.”  Lance closed his eyes as Antor’s busy hands moved over them.  “If you want to talk, I’m sitting here a captive audience.”</p>
<p>Since Antor had never been one to need much of an invitation to open up about himself, that brought forth the deluge.  It was pretty much as he’d suspected: Antor thought of Omnia as a woman with her ducks in a row, and himself as a walking disaster.  Lance thought he was being a little harsh on himself.</p>
<p>“Did it ever occur to you that maybe she needs somebody to untidy her business?”</p>
<p>“Why would she want something like that?”</p>
<p>There was a slight sting as multiple hairs were pulled from the side of Lance’s face.</p>
<p>“I said need, not want.”  Personally, Lance thought that Omnia’s work-life balance had been out of kilter for a while, but to say so out loud felt somehow disloyal to his husband, so he held back on that observation.  “Just think about it.”</p>
<p>“I guess I’ll have to, otherwise you’ll be back in here trying to get me to thread your hairline, and in my professional opinion that’s not an ideal way to manage those cowlicks.”  Antor raised the chair upright and spun Lance to look in the mirror.  “What do you think?”</p>
<p>Lance thought he now looked a whole lot more like Rachel, if Rachel were to out of the blue decide that she wanted to wear her hair in a pixie cut.  “Nice work,” is what he said.</p>
<p>He tipped Antor well and walked to the store’s double glass door entrance feeling better about having gone out and just things in general, when he was suddenly approached by a stranger coming up on his blind side.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you stunning,” said the beta male with the silky long hair who still had on his green overcoat as if he’d just walked in, when he’d approached from an angle suggesting he’d actually been deeper inside the store.  “Lance McClain de Shirogane, correct?  Former Party Omega?”</p>
<p>“Aah...”  The guy’s powdery scent didn’t read as hostile.  “You got me.”  Should he try to run back toward Antor’s station?  Only, he wasn’t entirely sure that he could still break into a run.</p>
<p>“Oh, forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself, how rude of me.”  The man held out a hand to clasp.  “I’m D.J. Harlock of the Bhorn Agency, how do you do.”  He had on a gold bracelet engraved with his initials which glimmered under the overhead lights as it emerged from the confines of his overcoat’s sleeve.</p>
<p>A brief and bewildering conversation ensued in which it became clear that this guy had noticed Lance in the store the day he’d gotten his eyebrows done, and come back to see if he could find him again.  He was a scout for a modeling agency that specialized in maternity and parent-baby shoots.  Apparently it was really hard to get photogenic reactions out of small infants from anyone but their actual caretakers, so some catalogs preferred to hire parent and baby together in an effort to avoid overlong shoots.  The guy was a fast-talker and eager to put Lance at ease, so he over-explained his case.  He wanted to sign Lance to his agency to model maternity clothes, and possibly later to model with his infant if he was interested.</p>
<p>“I’ll have to talk to my husband,” Lance said.  This was more of a hedging move than an actual necessity.  He was pretty sure he could talk Shiro into letting him take this offer if it turned out to be legitimate.  He just wasn’t sure yet that it was legitimate.</p>
<p>“Of course.”  Harlock accepted the excuse readily.  “Here is my card.  Please do give us a call.”</p>
<p>Lance took the card and mentally prepared himself for an afternoon of internet research checking up on this guy’s claims.  It was possible that Harlock’s interest was what had spooked him the other day, although it was odd that he didn’t feel any danger now that the guy was within arm’s reach.  Maybe he could rope Darrell into helping him out with the research.  Actually, he probably should.  If the Bhorn Agency turned out to be a scam, then Darrell knew who to contact in order to get it shut down.</p>
<p>But if the Bhorn Agency did turn out to be legit, then a temporary gig which allowed Lance to make contacts in the fashion industry could be just the ticket.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The consensus between brother and aunt was that Amue Herakles wasn’t playing with a full deck.  If Macidus had managed to somehow convince her that he was taking her side in whatever scheme he may have used to lure her westward (and according to them she was quite the confabulator, so there was a plethora of possibilities for what that could be) then she was probably cooperating with him willingly.  Caspian was of the opinion that he’d either use her as a decoy while he snuck around the back, or he’d surprise her as a hostage at the front door.  Since Caspian had been trying to run down Macidus for the longest time of anyone currently on scene, Colleen deferred to her take on the developing situation, deploying the agents with Caspian watching the driveway from the woods, Newley helping Ryan guard the kids in an upstairs office, Chukker in reserve back in the bunkhouse, and herself standing ready to answer the door with Hys Herakles.  Now all they could do was wait and see who came knocking.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Darrell was unimpressed with Lance’s feat of bravery in taking off by himself when he suspected he’d been previously followed.  <em>“You really need to be telling Shiro about these things.”</em></p>
<p>“But then he’ll just worry.”  Lance had called him from his office in the brownstone.</p>
<p>Darrell put on his patented ‘are you kidding me’ face in the video chat window.  <em>“That’s his job!”</em></p>
<p>Lance groaned.  “Alright, I’ll tell him.”  At this point, he’d probably better tell him before Darrell did.  “I just hate stressing him out when I know I can handle it.”</p>
<p>Darrell smiled wryly.  <em>“You have no idea how much you sound like your dad.”</em></p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Macidus had the girl let him out in golden daylight before the turn off to the long, winding driveway.  Goldilocks would continue on in the pickup truck to face the scrutiny of the estate’s security cameras.  He’d told her that he wanted her to soften up auntie for him and that he’d catch up with her by hoofing it through the woods.  Then they could work on her little brother together and get the whole story.  He’d seen enough of how she operated by now to feel confident that this would cause a ruckus, which was why he’d asked her to do it.  She’d gone along with this plan with no back talk, still believing that Macidus gave a single toot about whatever her little brother knew.</p>
<p>Maybe he’d snatch her up and take her with him when he got what he actually came for, make a proper henchwoman out of her.  Macidus knew that Holt and whatever backup she’d managed to scare up would be expecting him to come through the strip of woodland circling the western side of the property.  That’s why he was moving north through the grape vine arbors; rows upon rows hanging dormant over cover crops.  He could sneak into the house while Goldilocks was busy keeping everybody distracted and grab himself an alpha bastard to go.  He only needed one, and if the alpha got brain damaged from a nasty crack on the noggin during the escape, that wouldn’t be ruinous to Macidus’s plans.</p>
<p>That was the easy part.  Even the part where he’d probably be hefting an unconscious alpha over one shoulder at some point wasn’t going to slow him down much.  The hard part would be spiriting the alpha to the truck and getting away before one of those agents shot either him or the tires.  He might need a hostage.  Sure would be nice to take Goldilocks away with him.  </p>
<p>Something stung the back of his neck and he slapped at it.  Fucking no-see-ums.  He couldn’t wait to get his stuff and get out of the damn countryside.  Sweat popped out from every pore as he jogged through the swaying rows.  When had the earthquake started?  He stared in fascination as the trembling leaves of winter peas drew closer to his face.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Maahox crouched over his target with his dart gun held at the ready as he checked his vitals.  Tranquilizing humans was always a tricky business, especially for one as desensitized to barbiturates as this one was.  After he was satisfied that Macidus was indeed under for the time being, he set about lashing his lanky frame to a travois to drag him over to where he’d parked his rental car on the dirt service road.  It was a nice boring sedan of the sort that nobody paid much mind to on the highway, and it had a nice big trunk.  He’d thought to get into a good position to watch Macidus arrive at the house and then lucked into finding Macidus sneaking up by the same route.</p>
<p>He hoped that luck stayed with him as he carried this one away to a secluded location.  He may require one of the alphas in the house at a later point in time, but not yet.  Macidus’s research findings were of the highest importance.  It would be better to wait until the law enforcement detail protecting Lotor’s little extras began to relax before making that acquisition anyway.  They couldn’t maintain that level of high vigilance forever.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The blonde showed up alone; beautiful, well-maintained, and two fries short of a Happy Meal.  Hys let her into the house where she immediately demanded to talk to her brother and see her niece, glossing over Colleen’s presence with a marble-eyed glance that let her know she’d been mistaken for a servant.  When Hys had (quite naturally in Collleen’s opinion) wanted to know why the sudden interest in a sibling and niece she hadn’t so much as called to ask after the entire time the little girl had been alive, Amue had lost the rest of her shit.</p>
<p>“Alor has borne Shirogane’s love child, I just know it!”  Tears clumped her mascara.  “I need to see it with my own eyes!  He slept with my man, leaving me vulnerable to that lawyer who seduced me!”</p>
<p>“Manigford went after you too?”  Colleen was beginning to think that the profiler was correct in her assessment that Lotor had an addictive personality.  It didn’t excuse any of his actions, but it did explain a few things.</p>
<p>“I never slept with Shirogane.”</p>
<p>The three women turned to find Alor standing near the wrought-iron stair railing just visible beyond the kitchen.  Shouts to see little Lora must have drawn him downstairs.  Behind Alor, Colleen could see a shadow on the wall of someone just out of sight farther up the stairs.  She recognized Ryan’s silhouette from all the times he’d hovered nearby while Colleen held little Banon.</p>
<p>“I thought Shiro was a player.”  Alor chuckled.  “I know that sounds ridiculous in light of what actually happened.  But when Lotor told me he was unable to have children with his wife and that he wanted me to join them as a triad, I believed him.”</p>
<p>Triads were legally very complicated in most developed countries, and therefore rare.  Old money like Lotor’s family almost never engaged in them due to the asset distribution problems they inevitably incurred when it came time to read the will.  It was a little odd that Alor didn’t seem to be aware of that, but according to the background sheet Colleen had been provided with, he’d been orphaned at a fairly young age and then left in the care of a series of nannies hired by his older brother, so she’d give him the benefit of the doubt for being naive.</p>
<p>“You big fat liar!”  Amue tried to rush her brother and encountered a wall of Ryan.  “I know you had Shiro’s baby!”  She struggled ineffectually in Ryan’s arm bar hold.  “Macidus told me everything!”</p>
<p>The potential confirmation of a suspect’s proximity sent a spike of energy coursing through Colleen’s body.  “Where is Macidus now?”</p>
<p>“He’ll be here any minute!”  Amue’s eyes were rolling like an angry Chihuahua’s.  “When he gets here, he’ll fix your little red wagon!”</p>
<p>Colleen spoke into the mic hidden in her collar.  “You got that, Caspian?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Copy that.”</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith watched in embarrassed trepidation as a grumbling Kosmo circled around Gunther, while the other dog came to a standstill and looked off to the side.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it,” Pidge said.  “They’re just reestablishing the pecking order.  They did this last time, too.  It’s fine, it’s what they do.  They’re dogs.”</p>
<p>“He’s never acted like this with Bae Bae.”</p>
<p>Pidge shrugged.  “Bae Bae’s a girl,” she said, as if that explained everything.  “So how about it, you gonna meet up with us for lunch during Kuro’s layover?  I know he’d love seeing you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, count me in.”  Keith smiled as the dogs got over their posturing and trotted off to play with Bae Bae, who was waiting for them halfway across the field with her tail wagging.  “That sounds like fun.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro sat behind his desk catching up on the employee performance reviews that Omnia had written up for him weeks before.  If there were any red flags he trusted that she would have made sure those reports were brought to his attention at once instead of just handing him the files; however, if she needed to take any personal time then he might have to assign a few of these people to cover for her, so he may as well find out which ones had enough talent combined to equal one Omnia.  He’d managed to get a quiet minute to talk to her and she’d smiled and thanked him for being understanding.  She’d said she needed a little more time to figure out how she felt about the thing they weren’t talking about before she discussed it with anyone else.  Shiro had to be satisfied that he’d done his due diligence, but it was still difficult to wait.  In retrospect he was immensely glad that Lance had just sprung the news on him right away.</p>
<p>As if summoned by his thoughts, Lance let himself into the office carrying a bag that smelled wonderfully garlicky.  Shiro rose from the desk to take the bag and help him take off his coat, stealing a kiss as he did so.  Looking down into Lance’s smiling face he couldn’t help but notice how young he looked.  Younger than usual, in fact.</p>
<p>“Something’s different about you,” he said.  An alpha was supposed to notice when his omega had changed his appearance; he was supposed to notice, and he was supposed to comment on it.  Even when he couldn’t put his finger exactly on what it was.</p>
<p>“They’ll grow back,” Lance replied mysteriously, granting him one last kiss and patting his cheek before sorting out the bag, which contained ricotta-stuffed ravioli in red sauce, slices of soft bread with thick crusts, and salad in vinaigrette.</p>
<p>“You’re on a pasta kick lately,” Shiro remarked as he grabbed them each a bottle of mineral water from his stash in a desk drawer.</p>
<p>“It’s the sauce,” Lance said.  “Or maybe it’s the cheese.”</p>
<p>While Shiro would wish that Lance could stay away from saturated fats and sodium, he couldn’t deny that the food was delicious as he took his first bite.  He surreptitiously checked the time while he chewed.  He’d stayed a little late, but not so late yet that he’d have needed to call home.  “What brings you all the way down here, honey?”  It couldn’t be wedding related, because otherwise Rachel would be in there with them and she wasn’t.</p>
<p>“Kai helped me give someone a lift, and I also wanted to run something past you.”  Lance took a card out of his pocket and slid it across the desk at Shiro.  “I sensed this guy following me the other day.  I don’t know how, except that maybe the hormones are making me more alert to people watching me.  Anyway, he walked up to me today and offered me a modeling contract.”</p>
<p>Shiro almost choked on his food at Lance’s casual mention that he’d been followed.  He glared at the cardstock in his hand.  Bhorn Agency it read, in a logo drawn with elegantly stylized hibiscus vines.  The name ‘D.J. Harlock’ was printed in smaller font underneath, along with contact information.  The template looked professional, but that didn’t necessarily mean that it was.  </p>
<p>If this man meant his mate and pup harm, he’d soon learn that he’d made a grave mistake.  “We should have Darrell run this guy.”</p>
<p>“I already asked him,” Lance said, swiping a slice of bread through his sauce.  “He said Harlock and the Bhorn Agency check out.  They’re a boutique modeling agency who only work with expectant or new mothers.  Businesses who advertise maternity and infant products use them.”</p>
<p>“I don’t like that this man followed you before revealing himself.”  It made Shiro’s hackles rise to think of it.  “And I really don’t like that you didn’t tell me the very first time you noticed it.”  He met and held Lance’s eyes across the desk to make sure he understood that last part.</p>
<p>Lance blew out a breath in chagrin.  “I get it,” he said, “and I’m sorry.  I should have told you the first time.  It’s just, all I had to go on was a feeling, and I hate making you worry.  It seems like you worry all the time lately.”</p>
<p>Shiro reached over the desk to grip Lance’s hand.  “Don’t ever hold back just for that.  I’ve come to the conclusion that worrying is a natural side effect when you have a pregnant mate.”  He felt for Lance through the bond and received a magnified sense of concern coming back in his direction.  “I think we can help each other better by communicating.”</p>
<p>Shiro’s cell phone chimed the alert tone for an urgent call from Darrell.  Maybe he’d found out something troubling about this Harlock person after all?  Plenty of legitimate businesses unknowingly hired cretins.  Shiro reluctantly let go of Lance’s hand to answer the call.  “Shirogane speaking.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hey Shiro, I’ve got Special Agent Holt on the line in a conference call.  I called her for her take on something, and she asked me for an assist on a matter that might involve Lance.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Is it about that Harlock guy?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Harlock?  No, it’s about two other people who may have been following Lance.  It’s just a weird coincidence that they probably all noticed him on the same day.”</em>
</p>
<p>Shiro thought that anyone would have noticed a pretty omega like Lance walking around in the city, but he also knew that he was biased.</p>
<p>“Guess my danger sense wasn’t going haywire after all,” Lance muttered.</p>
<p><em>“Lance?”</em>  Darrell had spooky good hearing.  <em>“Hey there!  Think maybe you can ID a couple of people for us if we ping you the pictures?”</em></p>
<p>“I can sure try,” Lance said.</p>
<p><em>“Great!”</em> Colleen suddenly chimed in.  <em>“The more connections we can make between these two people, the more boxes it checks off so we can get search warrants.”</em></p>
<p>Two image files came through on Shiro’s messenger app.  One was a Los Angeles County mug shot of a bald man, who smirked at the camera as if daring the photographer to assume he was going any farther than a holding cell.  Shiro didn’t recognize him.  He did recognize the woman, who had been photographed mid-shout as she writhed in a standing hold applied by Ryan Kinkade.</p>
<p>“That’s Amue Herakles,” Shiro said.  “Her obsession must be deeper than I suspected.”</p>
<p><em>“I don’t know if deep is the right word for her,”</em> Colleen said, <em>“but yeah that’s Herakles.  We’re trying to connect her to the other person we sent you a picture of, but she’s crazy as a bedbug in June, and her aunt suddenly decided that blood runs thicker than crazy and got her a lawyer.”</em></p>
<p>Colleen’s people probably wanted access to Amue’s apartment.  “She’s a gossip columnist nursing a petty gripe against me for marrying someone who isn’t her.  I don’t recognize the man.  Honey, how about you, did you notice either of these people following you the other day?”  Shiro angled his cell phone’s screen so that Lance could look at the pictures.</p>
<p>Lance gasped, sending a ripple of shock through the bond sense.  “Macidus!”</p>
<p><em>“You know him?”</em> asked Colleen in keen interest.</p>
<p>“Everybody knows who he is.”  Lance continued to send alarm through the bond sense that was raising Shiro’s hackles again in response.  “He’s always sending his people over to the omega hostel trying to recruit runners.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“He ever come after you?”</em>
</p>
<p>“I gave his goon the brush off,” Lance said.  “The only omegas who ever took that offer were the ones who were ready to hang it all up, because Macidus’s runners tend to disappear a lot.  Ay de mí, that must have been him I felt the other day when I sensed danger.  I never spotted him though.”  </p>
<p>Lance shivered.  Colleen said, <em>“Ease off there, champ,”</em> and Shiro realized he was growling.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I trust an omega’s spidey sense, but unfortunately I can’t use it as a witness statement.  How about the woman, you remember seeing her?”</em>
</p>
<p>Lance gave Amue’s picture a closer look.  “Yes, I noticed her in the cosmetics store the first time I went in there to talk to Antor.  She was hanging around the eyebrow pencil display.  It was kind of strange.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Why’s that?”</em>
</p>
<p>“She kept picking up the deep brown eyebrow pencils, but she’s a blonde.  Probably natural, just judging by her skin tone.  She should have been looking at the taupe pencils.  Her face was made up like it was done by somebody with some skill, so I figured she would have known that.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Now that’s a witness statement I can use.”</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Maahox had chosen a derelict building in the middle of nowhere for this confrontation.  It had been a resort in the Roaring Twenties, then a facility for interrogating POWs during WWII, and eventually it wound up in its present condition: a crumbling ruin decorated with graffiti and home to screech owls.  It’s desolate location suited his purposes.  He coasted down the long gravel driveway, lights off as dusk began to gather, engine barely purring above idle so as not to excite the interest of the cattle ranchers next door.  He opened the trunk with his dart gun at the ready.</p>
<p>Macidus groaned and struggled weakly against his bonds, eyelids quivering.  He was coming around.  Best to get set up quickly.  Macidus hauled him out of the trunk on the travois and dragged him into the filthy shade of the resort’s former lobby.  He lashed Macidus to one of the building’s exposed concrete supports with zip ties, set out his camp lantern and bag of tricks, stood back and waited.</p>
<p>And waited.  And waited some more.  Macidus tilted limply in the restraints underneath a drawing of a dick and a written declaration that someone whose name had since been crossed out would take it up the ass.  As he waited, Maahox began to feel a creeping certainty that Macidus was fully conscious now and trying to take control of this interaction by forcing him to be the one to act first.  So be it.  </p>
<p>He reached into the bag and withdrew a thermos, giving it a good shake.  He heard ice rattling.  Satisfied, he took the cap off and threw the ice water into Macidus’s face.  Eyes so light a shade of brown they were almost yellow opened and glared at Maahox.</p>
<p>“You couldn’t have just used smelling salts?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t want to risk you knocking your brains out against the pillar from an involuntary reaction,” Maahox said.  “I have need of those brains, so I’d prefer them to remain intact.”</p>
<p>“Awww shucks.”  Macidus grinned in a way that surely unsettled most adversaries he’d dealt with in the past.  “I didn’t even bring you a corsage.”</p>
<p>Maahox knelt to his eye level.  “We both know that a hostile collaborator is a betrayal waiting to happen, so I won’t mince words.  I want to further your research on changing an individual’s secondary gender, and I would prefer your voluntary assistance in doing this.  In exchange I am willing to get you out of the country.  Quietly.  You will be in my employ from that point on.  Off the books, of course.”</p>
<p>Macidus looked at him as if he was nuts.  “If you could take my research you would have done it already, so it seems to me like I’m the one with the bargaining power here, old man.”</p>
<p>“I imagine it must seem so based on the evidence you had when you embarked upon this misadventure, but let me apprise you of the reason why I don’t have access to your research notes.”  Maahox took out his phone and pulled up the short video clip he’d filmed the night he’d cruised past Macidus’s abode.</p>
<p>Macidus’s face flushed in anger.  “Fuckin’ feebs!”</p>
<p>“I can get you to a place where there is no extradition treaty that can touch you,” Maahox said.  “I have a laboratory that I think you’ll find quite satisfactory, and while I can’t guarantee that you’ll ever enjoy the level of influence you’ve been able to flex here, I can still ensure that you will never languish in a jail cell, if you do as I say.”</p>
<p>Macidus grimaced.  He was no doubt thinking up alternate plans on top of alternate plans, but Maahox fully intended to have brought him to heel well before he had a chance to enact any of them.</p>
<p>“I want one more thing on top of that,” Macidus said.</p>
<p>Of course he did.  Nobody walked away from an outlaw empire without wanting more.  But he did want Macidus cooperative if at all possible, so he might as well find out what it was that he desired.  “Ask away.”</p>
<p>“I want the girl.”  Macidus licked his lips.  “Goldilocks.”</p>
<p>Perhaps the cocktail of mostly horse tranquilizers had affected that brain more severely than Maahox had bargained for.  Heaven knows how many times the man might have experimented on himself when perfecting his merchandise.  “Who, dare I ask, is Goldilocks?”</p>
<p>“Amue Herakles.”  Macidus grinned again, big square teeth in a skull-sharp face.  “Get her and the deal is on.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Aunt Hys had paid Amue’s bail but she wasn’t supposed to leave state lines, except this wasn’t her home state.  Amue sat on her gingham checked bedding in a state of unraveling.  Her aunt had invited her to stay in the house where that double-dealer Alor lived, as if that were going to happen.  As far as she was concerned, Lora’s blonde locks only confirmed that she took after the Herakles side of the family.  If she were Lotor Manigford’s child, then why would Macidus only have orders to bounty hunt the two teenaged boys who were staying with them, and not the little girl too?</p>
<p>Because apparently that was what Macidus really did as a career.  He was some sort of bounty hunter; an evil sort according to the police officers loitering around Aunt Hys’s property like they didn’t have donuts waiting for them back at the station or wherever they’d come from.  Amue didn’t trust their opinions.  Macidus had left both the pickup truck and the travel trailer in her name.  If he were truly evil, then why would he have given her sole ownership of that property?</p>
<p>Yet, why had he never arrived at the house?  Something must have happened to him in those woods, she just knew it, and all those police wanted to do was question her when they should be out combing the countryside to find him.  He could have been dragged off by a coyote.  Wild animals could be feasting on his poor bones while those officers drank their horrendous coffee and asked her endless questions about Lotor Manigford and what she knew about him, which was very little aside from that he was a cad who looked good naked.  Then they’d asked her questions about Shirogane’s omega, and why she’d followed him into a cosmetics store, and she’d had to explain her blog to uncultured fools who had then taken her cell phone away from her and hadn’t given it back.</p>
<p>Amue flopped backwards on the bed thinking to have herself a good cry.  Maybe afterwards she could go and eat some of that delicious barbecue, but it wouldn’t be the same without Macidus there smiling at her in that funny way of his, like she was the most intriguing person he’d ever seen.  Someone rapped on the trailer’s front door.  Could the police be back again?  Amue thought about ignoring them.</p>
<p>The visitor rapped again, more insistently this time.  Amue rose from the bed and stomped over to the front door, opening it on the teenaged daughter of the couple who ran the RV park.</p>
<p>“You got a phone call in the office,” the girl said desultorily.  “They don’t want to leave a message.”</p>
<p>Whoever it was must have been quite persuasive, as this establishment was not terribly service oriented.  Could it be Macidus?  Amue followed the girl to the office, which was actually a small house because the proprietors lived on the premises.  The wife sat behind a metal desk in the front parlor which they used as a check-in area, holding a phone receiver in one hand, the other hovering over a blinking button on the phone’s base.</p>
<p>“I got a woman holding for you who insists on talking to you right now,” the wife said, sounding mightily annoyed about being asked to behave like a representative of the hospitality industry.  “Kindly explain to this lady that I am not your personal secretary.”  She held out the phone receiver imperiously.</p>
<p>Unless Macidus was disguising his distinctively deep and raspy voice, this could not possibly be him.  Most likely it was either Aunt Hys or that Detective Holt person, in which case Amue would be more than happy to phrase the RV park woman’s request exactly as it had been relayed to her.</p>
<p>“If you would give me a moment’s privacy I’d be delighted to tell them never to call here again,” Amue said, pinching the phone receiver carefully out of the woman’s hand so as not to touch her sweaty palm.</p>
<p>The RV park woman – Amue had no idea what her proper name was, nor did she particularly care – took the line off hold and took her daughter with her further into the house, grumbling about fancy people bringing fancy problems into her park as she went.  Amue looked down at the chair which had just been vacated, which appeared to be covered in the fine hairs of a cat.  The RV park woman would loudly tell anyone who walked into this abode not to let the cat out lest it be snatched by hawks, but this was the first evidence Amue was seeing that this cat actually existed.  She thought about sitting in the chair, then thought better of it and answered the phone standing beside the desk.</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p><em>“Amue, my darling, it’s good to hear your voice.”</em>  The female voice was rich, cultured, and belonged to neither Aunt Hys nor the Holt woman.  <em>“It’s me, Raiza Garrett.  Word has reached me of your difficulties.  How are you getting along, my dear?”</em></p>
<p>This gesture of sympathy from a woman who spoke in the half-remembered tones of her own long-gone mother had Amue blubbering out her worries in spite of the fact that she’d met Raiza Garrett only a few times before and therefore the means by which she’d heard of Amue’s troubles were mysterious.  Gossip did travel like the tributaries of a river, so it wasn’t impossible for her to have gotten a nibble already.  This was what Amue told herself as she told Raiza basically everything which had occurred.</p>
<p><em>“How dreadful for this to have happened to you,”</em> Raiza said.  <em>“Why don’t you come down here to Studio City and stay with us for a time?  Roland and I have plenty of room.”</em></p>
<p>So much more appealing was this offer than staying in a house with her Janus-faced little brother or remaining alone in the travel trailer, that it completely slipped Amue’s mind that she was speaking with the mother-in-law of a man she despised.  This would occur to her much later.  At that moment in time, however, she accepted the invitation in the spirit with which she thought it had been meant and took down instructions on how to get to the house using a message pad on the desk.  She hung up the phone and looked over to where the RV park woman was peeping around the corner from the hall.</p>
<p>“I require assistance hooking my travel trailer up to my truck so that I may leave this place,” she said.  “I will tip you handsomely if you do a good job.”</p>
<p>The RV Park woman replied, “If it means I get to see the back of you, then I’ll do it for free.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The session of Monsters &amp; Mana had not been planned.  Everybody just needed to unwind for various reasons, and they all happened to need to unwind on roughly the same timetable.  Well, not quite everybody.  Valayun and Ada had bowed out due to Ada’s player having an upset stomach.  The rest sent their well wishes Shay’s way before logging onto the game.</p>
<p>Keith and Hunk sat up side by side against the headboard of their bed, computers in laps.  They hadn’t yet decided where their new home office was going to be, though they were considering allocating some space in the walk-in closet since it was really big and neither of them was a clothes horse.  In the meantime, a lot of tasks formerly done in the office were now being accomplished either at the dining room table or sitting up in bed.  Keith had thrown his lengthening hair up in a haphazard top knot which Hunk thought was cute but Keith suspected looked ridiculous.  The thing was, he didn’t really care if it looked goofy or not because ponytails were uncomfortable when leaning back against a headboard, and these days Keith was all about getting comfortable.</p>
<p>On their computer screens, things weren’t looking too comfortable for the party.  They were trapped in an abandoned shack surrounded by howling werewolves, who had caught the scent of Pike’s unborn kittens and chased them relentlessly through the forest.  Then they’d discovered that there was a trapdoor underneath the dust covering the floor of the one room shack where they’d sought shelter.  A cannibal had tried to emerge from the trapdoor and been defeated by Peacemaker, but not before taking out Bobiro.  Kurojishi had put a shield on the trapdoor just in case the cannibal had a vengeful family hiding down there, and now they were all trying to figure out what to do next.</p>
<p><em>“I mean, we could just wait here for daylight,”</em> Pike suggested.</p>
<p><em>“You can’t assume that they’re all involuntary shifters just because the moon is out,”</em> Pidge said.  <em>“Some of them had on those funky-looking gorget neck pieces.  You might wake up just to find out the werewolves have turned into bandits.”</em></p>
<p>Suddenly, a sparkly portal appeared in the center of the frame, out of which emerged a figure in shiny armor.</p>
<p>
  <em>“It is I, Fofiro!  Come to avenge my brothers and protect this Neko from marauders!”</em>
</p>
<p>In response to this, Lance trilled loud enough to be heard over the soundtrack music.</p>
<p><em>“Great, we’ve got our Paladin back.”</em>  They could hear Pidge clicking through screens.  <em>“One of you guys needs to come up with a plan before the werewolves break down the door.”</em></p>
<p>Door-thumping noises emerged from the computer speakers as the werewolf howls cranked up to eleven.  Kosmo lifted his head from his dog bed and howled back.  Keith and Hunk traded ‘uh oh’ looks.  Through cyberspace, two other dogs joined the cacophony by barking, then they heard a yowl that sounded more feline than canine.</p>
<p><em>“Pidge, your werewolves have frightened my cat,”</em> said Shiro, <em>“and he scratched me jumping down.”</em></p>
<p><em>“You think I’m loving this right now?”</em>  Pidge sounded like she was this close to being out of fucks to give.  <em>“Somebody do something before one of my neighbors gets me in trouble with a noise complaint!”</em></p>
<p>Keith personally thought maybe Pidge should have reconsidered the werewolf sound effects considering there were two dogs sharing her office, but he agreed that something needed to be done.  It was time to step up his game.  “Kurojishi, can you unspell the trapdoor and throw an orb down there?”</p>
<p><em>“I could do that,”</em> Kurojishi said cautiously, <em>“but why would I do that?”</em></p>
<p>“Because I bet there’s another way out through there.”  Cannibals in the game were opportunists more than planners, so Thunderstorm thought it was more likely to have come through a passage than to have been lying in wait.</p>
<p><em>“You sure you want to do that?”</em> Pidge asked.  <em>“You could wind up stuck out in the open if the wind changes and the werewolves catch your scent.”</em></p>
<p>“I’m thinking that the tunnel might lead somewhere we can get the drop on them, otherwise that cannibal would have led them straight to us.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Who’s going to scout?”</em>
</p>
<p>“I am,” Keith said.  “Pike smells too much like monster chow to do it.  I’m going to toggle for stealth.”</p>
<p>Several gasps were heard on the group channel.</p>
<p><em>“Thunderstorm, no!”</em>  The game’s POV changed angles as Peacemaker strode to Thunderstorm’s side.  <em>“Think of what could happen!  You’re not an actual rogue!”</em></p>
<p>“You’re right, I’m not an actual rogue,” Keith said.  “But what I am, is a rando!”  He could feel the heroicness positively infusing his entire real body.  “Babe, hold the egg for me, will you?”  He maneuvered his avatar to give the egg to Block.</p>
<p>“Luck be with you Thunderstorm.”  Hunk put his real hand on Keith’s real shoulder.  “Watch out for ooze.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be back before you know it.”  Then he flipped up Thunderstorm’s cloak over his head as Kurojishi opened the trapdoor.</p>
<p>The wizard sent an orb down into the darkness, and Thunderstorm dropped down after it.  Now the only others who could watch his progress were Pidge, whose Lore Master privileges enabled her to follow his character by realtime screen capture, and Hunk, who could just look over his shoulder.  The rest were still looking at an interior shot of the shack with a bunch of avatars standing around an open hole in the floor.  Thunderstorm’s magical abilities enabled him to move Kurojishi’s orb, illuminating a dirt tunnel just large enough for him to walk in without touching the walls or ceiling.  Thunderstorm silently traversed the tunnel which felt like it was at a slight incline, though that could have been just an optical illusion.  He arrived at a ladder leading up into moonlight.</p>
<p>“I am a rando,” Keith psyched himself up, before toggling for stealth and climbing the ladder.</p>
<p><em>“The wind’s in your favor, Thunderstorm, and it looks like that cannibal was traveling alone,”</em> Pidge said.  <em>“Go ahead and have yourself a good look, nothing nasty is going to smell you there for a while.”</em></p>
<p>The tunnel ended in a hillock on the edge of the woods, so that Thunderstorm had the advantages of a higher vantage point and a screen of new growth vegetation.  He could see the small wolf pack methodically searching the windowless shack for weak points.  One of them was on the roof gripping the narrow pipe chimney in clawed hands in the apparent hope of being able to rip it off and make a larger hole.  All of this implied that Pidge had been correct, and not all of these shifters were taken over by beast brain.  In fact, some of them might not even be unscripted NPCs at all, possessed or otherwise.  With some classes it was hard to tell the difference.</p>
<p>Getting the entire party out through the tunnel was an achievable goal, but it would only buy them a temporary reprieve, because they could probably smell Pike through the small gaps in the shack’s walls, and it wouldn’t take them long to notice if that smell disappeared.  Then they’d fan out in the woods trying to pick up his scent again, and if Thunderstorm was right and there were PCs among that group, they’d be scarily effective at it.  If only there was a way to safely lure them inside the shack and then trap them in there.  Thunderstorm decided he needed to confer with the rest of his party and so he climbed back down and returned to the trapdoor.  Five avatar faces leaned close around him as he quietly gave his report.</p>
<p>Block, Peacemaker and Kurojishi accompanied Thunderstorm back through the tunnel to get their own lay of the land.  Fofiro was chosen to stay behind and guard Pike because it wasn’t safe yet to move Pike out of werewolf-sniffing distance, and also because Fofiro would have stayed behind to guard Pike anyway.  Luck remained with them using the stealth toggle as they all got a gander and agreed that trapping the werewolves inside the shack was a good idea.  The challenge was going to be getting Pike through the tunnel without alerting any werewolves that there was another way out of the shack.</p>
<p>“We need a distraction,” Thunderstorm mused, and then all of the sudden, they had one.</p>
<p><em>“Knight-Errant Chatarbre!”</em> shouted the very man as the clearing around the shack suddenly lit up like klieg lights at an illegal rave.  <em>“Taste my wrath upon thee and remember my name, thou unholy wretches!”</em></p>
<p>Chatarbre was throwing arcane spells that reminded everybody else that Coran had been doing this for a damn while; since the video game was still a board game, in point of fact.  Yips resounded out of the computer speakers whenever he managed to shave a hit point off of a werewolf, which was often.  The party didn’t need to tell Pike to get his ass down into the tunnels.  As they headed back to get him, they saw him running toward them, armored belly heaving and rolling before him.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Fofiro’s dead!”</em>
</p>
<p>At least that was one less member of the party to account for before sealing the shack.  Kurojishi pointed his staff at the trapdoor, through which a wolf face was peering.  The shack immediately burst into flames.</p>
<p>“We were going to trap them in there!” Thunderstorm wailed.</p>
<p><em>“I was trying to cast a wave of thunder!”</em> Kurojishi cried.</p>
<p><em>“That probably would have been worse,”</em> was Peacemaker’s opinion.</p>
<p><em>“Let’s run now,”</em> Pike said, and they did that.</p>
<p>With Kurojishi pulling and Block pushing, they hefted Pike up the ladder onto the hillock where Chatarbre was waiting for them.</p>
<p><em>“Nicely done, young wizard!”</em> he said cheerfully.  <em>“Now those villains will be too busy nursing burn wounds to want to give chase!”</em></p>
<p>Sure enough, among the fiery embers of the former shack, werewolves were running around trying to put out patches of fire all over their furry hides.  <em>“Ow, ow, owwww!”</em>  There was little chance any of them would have the presence of mind to try tracking the group now.  Just in case though, they should really consider picking up some silver weapons in the next town.</p>
<p>A sparkly portal opened and out of it fell a fresh new Paladin.  <em>“My name is Momiro!”</em>  He looked around at the other avatars on the hillock.  <em>“Thank you for saving my Neko.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“You’re welcome.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No sweat.”</em>
</p>
<p>“He kind of saved himself.”</p>
<p>“How about I cast a little mana so we can make better time?”  Block’s hands already glowed with the touch that would allow each of them to travel tirelessly over any terrain for long enough to get plenty of distance between themselves and the werewolves.</p>
<p>The rest of the party agreed, and they made it to a safe spot to set up camp.  Their avatars all sat around a soothing digital campfire before Chatarbre finally revealed why he’d suddenly come to their rescue.  It wasn’t a magic knight’s sixth sense for danger.</p>
<p><em>“She was born at 8:07 pm, seven pounds six ounces!”</em>  The gaming group’s messenger channel lit up with alerts.  They had all received a picture of a pink-swaddled newborn glaring crankily at the photographer.  <em>“Marie Elenor King, but they’re calling her Mariel for short!  I wanted you all to know as soon as possible, so in I popped!”</em></p>
<p>Keith and Hunk smiled down at the picture of the little baby girl whose birth had wound up saving all of their avatars’ virtual behinds (Shiro’s Paladin character notwithstanding).  Stressful weeks were so much more bearable when they came to such sweet and happy ends.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Amue sat next to Macidus in the center cabin of Roland Garrett’s Bombardier jet under the watchful eye of one of Maahox’s security guards.  Maahox himself was in the forward cabin, but Amue wouldn’t be surprised if he also had one eye on them, somehow.  She hadn’t known him for very long yet, but in that time he had impressed himself upon her as the sort of person who had eyes and ears everywhere.  It would be aspirational, if she didn’t happen to be the bug under the microscope this time.</p>
<p>“You didn’t fuss much about coming with me.”</p>
<p>Amue turned her head at her seatmate’s words.  Macidus looked back down at her, eyes lit up with that strange curiosity she found so oddly appealing.  She thought of the future she’d have had to look forward to if she’d stayed.  The high-priced lawyer Aunt Hys found might be able to get her off with a slap on the wrist, but then Samson would have railroaded her into marriage to one of his cronies to save the family reputation.  Choosing which gilded cage to climb into had been an easy decision.</p>
<p>“You’re not boring,” she said.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Traveling to Los Angeles by air seemed like going back in time to Kuro, as they left in the late afternoon and arrived in the late morning of the same date on the calendar.  Such was the magic of traveling across the International Date Line.  This time Kuro traveled in business class with Shinji.  The business class sky suites were slightly smaller and much closer together than the ones he remembered from the first class flights over a year prior.  Kuro had the window suite and Shinji the staggered aisle suite, and in this cozy configuration Kuro felt comfortable enough to ask the flight attendant for a mattress pad to turn his seat into a bed after the evening meal, so that he could take a nap for most of the flight.</p>
<p>He woke up in time for a breakfast of melon slices and a croissant with strawberry jam, which he ate while watching a special effects laden movie about people trying to fight a threat in outer space.  It was very noisy, but nowhere near as bad as the in-flight movie from his very first ever ride in an airplane (he would not soon forget that clone movie).  He freshened up using the personal care kit provided by the airline, and by the time they were instructed to prepare for landing, Kuro’s excitement was ramping up.  He was minutes away from seeing Pidge in person for the first time in sixteen months!  He held onto the pearl dangling from his courting necklace as the plane coasted towards the disembarkation point.</p>
<p>Shinji took charge of getting carts for their luggage, picking up that luggage from the carousel, having their passports stamped and exchanging their currency.  Because they were continuing the journey with Pidge, they were changing airlines and would leave Tom Bradley International Terminal to meet her at the departure gate, but first they had to go through customs.  After much walking, waiting, and more walking, Kuro was beginning to feel that his excitement had been a little bit premature.  His feet might have been relieved when Shinji slowed down near the eateries on the ticketing level, but his mind wanted to know what the hell Shinji thought he was doing.  Pidge might already be waiting for them!</p>
<p>“Hey guys, we went ahead and put in everybody’s pizza orders to save time, I hope you don’t mind.”</p>
<p>Pidge stood up from a table on the other side of a half-wall permitting the diners inside of one eatery a modicum of privacy.  She wore her white blazer over a green t-shirt, her hair a wild glory of every shade of honey.  She may have grown a fraction of an inch and she was wholly beautiful.  Kuro dropped his luggage and ran right over, hugging her across the half-wall.</p>
<p>Pidge laughed.  “Hi, you.”</p>
<p>“Hi.”  He took in her orchard scent and her warmth, and  the strength of her arms.  She felt like the last piece of a puzzle slotting into place.</p>
<p>Gradually he became aware that there were others present.  Shinji had come up beside him pulling two luggage carts, and on the other side of the half-wall sat two people Kuro hadn’t seen in as long as Pidge.  He hadn’t expected to see them today either, but was glad to see them nevertheless.  It was a pregnant Keith and a Matt with a little spit-up on his shoulder (did he know?) and both of them now had long hair tied back in braids.  Kuro happily greeted his friends and they all sat down together to enjoy some conversation and pizza before they had to hustle over to make their connection to New York.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Pidge figured if pizza was going to cost that much it had better be good, and she supposed it must be given the way both Keith and Matt were chowing down on it.  Matt had offered to drive her to the airport, and wound up giving Keith a lift as well so that they could pool their money and split the parking fee.  Ryan had come back from whatever redacted thing he’d been doing, and Matt was determined to milk it for all of the babysitting favors he could, so he and Keith were going to hang out for a while after seeing them off.  Matt had judged that Banon was ready to spend some quality time with his dad without his mother hanging out within nursing distance, having been bottle fed for a couple of months and recently taking a liking to pureed peas.  The pizza might have tasted like baby food for all the attention Pidge paid to it, for her senses were attuned entirely to Kuro from the moment he’d arrived.</p>
<p>James had commented to her once that he thought Kuro and Shiro’s omega Lance smelled a lot alike, but she didn’t think so.  Where Lance’s scent was redolent almost to the point of being fruity, Kuro’s was teasingly mild.  She suspected James was only picking up on the spicy floral notes and wasn’t at all surprised that it had taken someone with an intensely forward scent like Farla to finally catch his nose.  Pidge could have sat next to Kuro all day picking apart all of the subtleties in his sweet scent, but they had a plane to catch.</p>
<p>Keith and Matt walked with them through the glass-walled connector building to their terminal, chatting about what movie they were going to go see.  Matt had been on baby time for months, so he hadn’t seen anything exciting enough to potentially wake up a sleeping infant in a while.  He and Keith waved goodbye to the others as they got in line for TSA.  All three of the travelers had pre-check memberships enabling them to expedite that process from hellish to only heckish.  They checked their bags and reached their gate just in time to board.</p>
<p>The Airbus’s business class cabin had five rows of two by two seats separated by a single aisle.  Pidge had honestly never traveled fancier than premium economy before, so this looked palatial to her.  Kuro had the window seat.  Pidge had booked the seat right behind him, but Shinji graciously gave up his aisle seat next to Kuro and took that seat instead.  Now she could hold Kuro’s hand and talk to him throughout the long flight, and Shinji could keep a watchful eye on them without being right in their faces about it.</p>
<p>They put their carry-on bags in the overhead bins and sat down.  Pidge clasped hands with Kuro over the armrest tray table, fingers overlapping like the strands of precious metal wreathing his neck.  They held hands all through the flight attendants’ safety demonstration, until they rolled a cart down the aisle to offer them cold soft drinks and warm mixed nuts.  Pidge had thought the warmed nuts was an old-timey thing that airlines didn’t do anymore, but apparently the fancy seats still got them.  Gingerly, she tasted one.  Amazingly, it wasn’t dry.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro unfolded the hand truck he’d brought with him to help transport suitcases as he waited by the luggage carousel.  Kai was waiting with the limo in the cell phone lot.  Shiro would call him for pickup as soon as his guests had arrived and their baggage claimed.  Lance had wanted to come with him, but the limo ride home would have been a tight squeeze and Kuro in particular had to be feeling very tired by now, so he’d agreed to wait at home.  Instead he was helping Haruka prepare a nice ochazuke as a late supper for when the travelers arrived back at the house.</p>
<p>Presently they came stumbling past security, brightening up at the sight of Shiro standing tall with both the hand truck and a rented luggage cart.  Pidge looked around keenly as she took her bags off the carousel.  Shiro sensed a wisecrack in the offing.</p>
<p>“No golf cart?” she asked.  “I thought all the classy people tootled around the airport in golf carts.  What will the society pages say?”</p>
<p>Shiro offered up his best arch expression.  “I thought you’d appreciate the chance to stretch your legs after that long flight.  Forgive me for assuming.”  He barely stopped himself from adding a joke about how he could still request a stroller for her if she wanted.  A dangerous glint off her glasses suggested that maybe she’d read the intension in his eyes anyway.</p>
<p>“Thank you for allowing us to stay in your home, Ani-san.”  Kuro bowed respectfully.</p>
<p>Shiro smiled at the sight of him, strong and confident in himself.  “It is never any trouble, Kuro-san.”  Then he offered his little brother a heartfelt embrace.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Pidge felt kind of bad for yanking Shiro’s chain earlier.  It was just that Kuro smelled exhausted and it was making her feel punchy, and Shiro had always been a fun verbal sparring partner in the past, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to test Shinji.  So she accepted it as karma that she now had to put up with Lance’s boisterousness at jet lag o’clock.  Okay so he hadn’t left his own time zone and it probably only felt like late evening to him, but still.  What kind of pregnant person was this wide awake at this hour of the night?  Even Matt the magical pregnancy unicorn went to bed well before midnight.</p>
<p>Right now Lance was helping Kuro unpack in the bedroom that he’d selected after passing around his omiyage, and Pidge kind of wanted it to be her helping him do that, but at the same time she understood why it couldn’t be.  For one thing, she was put in a room right next door to Shinji, who had made a point of telling her that he was a light sleeper.  Kuro had wisely chosen the larger guest bedroom with the balcony overlooking the back garden, leaving the two smaller bedrooms facing the street for the two shorter-term guests.  For another thing, Lance and Kuro were giggling in there.  Were they talking about her?  They had to be, and it was driving her CRAZY.</p>
<p>“Knock knock.”</p>
<p>Pidge looked up from arranging the electronics she’d brought with her on the built-in bookcase, along with a few textbooks she was planning to use for bedtime reading.  She’d opted for the room with plainest decor just for that bookcase, and Shinji had magnanimously accepted the one with the floral wallpaper and flouncy bedspread.  There was another, larger bedroom right below both of theirs, but that one was in the slow process of morphing into a nursery so it was technically out-of-order.</p>
<p>“Nobody’s here,” she said to Shiro, who was standing in the doorway.  “I’m just a figment of your imagination.”</p>
<p>Shiro smirked.  “Then I guess I don’t have to explain to myself that Kuro’s bedroom is right above mine so I’ll be able to hear if any funny business takes place in there.”</p>
<p>Pidge grinned.  “If that’s the case, then the reverse must also be true, don’cha think?”</p>
<p>Watching Shiro’s face as he worked through what that meant made Pidge think this vacation was off to a fine start after all.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Kuro took another turn around the rooms which he would call home for the next six months.  Ani had put a washlet in the bathroom, but otherwise it still looked quaintly old-fashioned, with a stained glass window and a cast iron bathtub shaped like a slipper.  The bedroom was done in too many shades of cream for his liking, he would have to find out if Ani had any black linens in storage.  There was a small table and two chairs which Lance had explained to him was meant for people to take tea together.  Oh, but outside the inswinging doors, a personal paradise: a balcony with a lounge chair set within the shelter of a cherry tree in bud, where he could sit and daydream if he liked.</p>
<p>He’d had a balcony in his room at Tou-san’s apartment, shielded by kusonoki trees.  He’d liked to take a folding chair out there to study for his cultural history class, though he could not stay out there uninterrupted for very long at a time, for there was always a vigilant bodyguard around to ensure that nobody tried climbing three storeys up to join him.  Probably he would not have to worry about such a thing happening at Ani’s house.  The private garden below was fenced in on all sides, and Lance’s office was right next door to his bedroom, so he was likely the most frequent visitor Kuro could expect to encounter.  He turned away from the balcony doors imagining their gauzy white curtains as gauzy black instead, and found that he already had a visitor, sitting right in the center of his lacy bed.</p>
<p>“I am reasonably sure you’re not supposed to be in here,” he said with a smile.</p>
<p>“Nyān,” said the visitor.</p>
<p>“Well,” Kuro said, sitting on the bed, “I won’t tell on you, but I think Ani might prefer for you to stay in your own bed.”  </p>
<p>He scratched the cat under the chin and was rewarded with a rumbling purr.  Atlas must have followed them in when Lance was helping him unpack, and then got stuck in the room when Kuro had closed the door.  He rose from the bed and opened the door, as while he would have found the cat’s company pleasant for sleeping, his new bedroom was not equipped with food dishes or a litter box.  Atlas hopped off the bed and sauntered out the door, down the hall and past a familiar figure who had paused outside the hall bathroom with a toothbrush in her hand.  She wore mint green pyjamas with cartoon owls on them, her hair adorably tousled.</p>
<p>Kuro smiled at the sight of Pidge standing there so close, and without thought he was beckoning her with his palm out and fingers flicking for her to come forward.  She looked puzzled and Kuro realized that she didn’t have her glasses on, so maybe she couldn’t tell what he was trying to convey.  He took a step toward her, and then she was walking toward him and they met in the middle of the hall.  He looked down into her large hazel eyes and put a finger to his lips, and then took one of her warm little hands in his.  The one without the toothbrush.  With a grin of understanding that some mischief was afoot, she let him lead her into the bedroom.</p>
<p>He quietly closed the door behind them, heartbeat thumping.  He did not know if it would be more embarrassing to be caught by Ani or Shinji, and he did not wish to find out.  Then he led Pidge to the balcony and opened the doors.  They stepped outside into the cool night air, and found that the funny egg-shaped lounge chair was just big enough to fit both of them if Pidge swung her shorter legs across Kuro’s lap.  They snuggled there in the dark, giggling and whispering.</p>
<p>“Your brother’s room is right below us,” Pidge said softly.  “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”</p>
<p>“We are above his terrace right now, not the bedroom part,” Kuro replied, enjoying the sweet tickle of her warm breath on his cheek.  “He doesn’t like to go out on terraces.  I don’t think he will hear us out here.”</p>
<p>Comforted with this knowledge, they spent several hours sharing warmth and indulging in each other’s company and kisses before Pidge sneaked back into her own bed and Kuro retired to his.  And if someone had happened to duck into his office to return an email confirming his availability for a trial photo session and overheard those two canoodling, Lance was the very last person who was going to judge anybody for wanting to tiptoe outside for a little smoochy smoochy.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is what I get for posting before completing my edits.  The subplots are monopolizing some chapters, I can see that more easily now that I'm looking at it on a macro level instead of a micro level, but I had wanted the contrast between perspectives.  It's fascinating to me how sometimes people with bad intentions really love their families, like they have the capacity to love but they can't seem to extend it farther than a few people.  I got a little carried away with that idea, though.  Sorry about that.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I can tell you that at least they don't take over every chapter.  The main characters are still in every chapter as well.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Month Six: Waltz of the Flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pidge and Kuro reaffirm their promises to each other.  Coran, Coran the Gorgeous Man re-enters the story-line and Shiro returns a favor to an old friend.  Keith and Hunk's baby name dilemma finally comes to a head.  Spring arrives, and with it some news that Lance and Shiro have been waiting patiently to find out.  School is in session for several people.  Keith gets a baby shower.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again to everybody reading and commenting.  You are all wonderful.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Aside from breakfast in the dining room, which was often anchored by rice and soup (which Pidge personally thought was kind of neat) their days were unstructured.  Shiro was often at work, Shinji in meetings with colleagues, and Lance had something going on with a modeling agency of all things (in all honesty, Pidge had thought the maternity models in catalogs were wearing fake bumps) leaving the young couple free to go see whatever sights they wanted with simply a stern reminder that Pidge had promised to keep Kuro safe.  They spent a whole day exploring Museum Mile, another at the 92Y community center attending guest lectures on various intriguing subjects which they discussed the whole walk home, and spent the third day window shopping with a lunch break at an outdoor café.  On the fourth day they went to Central Park, walking close together and enjoying each other’s company much as they’d done on the previous days.  This day, however, would end with their last dinner together for another long while.  Shiro had booked a reservation somewhere and he was being kind of smirky about it so it probably had something to do with her upcoming birthday.</p>
<p>Pidge held hands with Kuro as they walked under crabapple trees in the Conservatory Garden.  Shiro had brought home dinner from Shake Shack one night which they ate in the rear parlor while watching a movie together, taken them out for roast chicken at a fancy French place on another, and Haruka had made a dinner of grilled mackerel for everyone just the previous night.  Wherever Shiro had decided to take them this time, Pidge hoped she would be able to steal more time with Kuro afterwards.  They strolled into the dappled shade of a pergola draped in wisteria vines that had yet to begin their blooming season.  This place probably saw a lot of weddings whenever the weather was nice.  Pidge wondered what it might be like to marry Kuro in a setting like this.</p>
<p>Marriage had always been the end game, but the mechanics of it had been vague in Pidge’s mind, an amorphous ‘someday’ that they could plan for when they were done accomplishing other goals first.  Only, now Pidge had spent some days with Kuro and wasn’t looking forward to having to spend any days without him.  Was this how people knew for sure that this was the one?  It must be.  That looming feeling that there was a solution to the problem of being apart must be the driving force behind many a proposal or elopement.</p>
<p>Pidge was lost in thought as they descended the steps to the fountain.  Kuro already wore her courting necklace so it wasn’t as if they weren’t already basically affianced.  Elopement, as appealing as that sounded, would interfere with many of their plans, not least Kuro’s.  There had to be another gesture that would appease her inner alpha’s roar to stake her claim.  As they ambled down the path into a manicured garden centered by a statue of maidens dancing in a ring, an idea occurred to her.  It was kind of corny, but she was the one who’d once dreamed of a wedding officiated by a Spock impersonator.  She could do corny.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance sat in his office shuffling through proofs, happier with the images than he had expected to be.  He’d been able to send Harlock a selection of photos carefully culled from shots that his sister-in-law Dorma had taken over the past year and change.  He’d also had some pictures he’d previously compiled of his own makeup and hair work, a portfolio he’d intended to use for applying with salons.  Much of that work had been done on himself for expediency’s sake, but the pictures had come in handy when Harlock had asked for some sample photos before scheduling the test shoot.  Now he was looking at the results of that test shoot, and damn if he didn’t look good with professional lighting.  Even the baby bump looked kind of glam under well-aimed warm LEDs.</p>
<p>His little daydream about becoming the world’s next top maternity supermodel was interrupted by a knock at the half-open door.  Lance swiveled back in the bankers chair to see who it was.</p>
<p>“Come on in, amiga,” he said when he saw who was standing there.  “What can I do for you today?”</p>
<p>“I need your help,” Pidge said.  “You probably know all the best jewelry stores near here, right?”</p>
<p>“I know a few,” Lance admitted.  As Pidge went on to explain her intentions, he realized he needed to be involved in this if only to prevent her from accidentally stealing Kuro’s thunder at dinner.  It was a good thing those two great minds thinking alike had assumed that his affair with fashion extended to jewelry and sought him out.  He rarely decorated himself with more than his courting necklace and anniversary watch, but when he did need a little something extra to match an outfit, he knew where to go and who to talk to.  For what Pidge wanted, he could hook a girl up.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Ani had given Kai and Haruka the night off and taken the rest of them out to eat at a neighborhood Italian restaurant where he liked to take Lance sometimes.  At least, that was the impression that Kuro received from how the host greeted Ani and Lance by name before showing them to their candle lit table and then asking if either of them would like their usual.  Ani’s eye twitched when Lance asked for an individual sized cheese pizza with some honey on the side, but he quite wisely did not comment on it, opting instead to confirm that he would have his own usual of eggplant parmigiana.  Pidge ordered tagliatelle alla Bolognese in fluent Italian, making Kuro purr and Ani’s eye twitch some more.  Kuro decided that he was having what Pidge was having, and Shinji opted for the special that the host had described as he was seating them.</p>
<p>The pasta Kuro had ordered on Pidge’s recommendation was a rich meaty sauce on thick egg noodles, like what might happen if spaghetti Napolitan and stamina udon were combined into one hearty dish.  Ani looked very pleased to see everyone enjoying their meals.  Maybe a bit less so when he saw Lance take some of the agliata Shinji had been given for his bistecca and combine it with honey to make a dipping sauce for his pizza.  Shinji just smiled and shrugged, and flagged the waiter to get some more sauce.</p>
<p>Eventually the pleasant meal came to a close.  As they lingered over gelato, Kuro pondered his moment.  The little black velvet bag sat a tiny weight in his pocket.  Ani had promised not to let the waiters come out with cake and candles until after Kuro had done what he intended to do.  Then Pidge was suddenly turning her chair to better face him, her small hand reaching over the polished wood table for his.</p>
<p>“Kuro,” she said, her eyes as warm and gold as New Year’s tea behind her wire-framed glasses, “we’re already courting, so what I’m about to say probably isn’t going to come as a surprise, but I just wanted to restate my case.  I want to marry you.”  She pressed something small and cool into the palm of the hand that she was holding.  “With that intent, I’m giving you this ring, as a symbol of my love and my promise to you.”</p>
<p>Kuro opened his palm to gaze down at what she’d given him.  It was a slender band, white gold from the pale mellow gleam of it in the candle’s glow, with a square solitaire of sparkling green.</p>
<p>“It’s, ah, it’s your birth stone,” Pidge rambled as Kuro continued to stare at the ring in his hand.  “It’s a peridot.  Here, let me...”  She plucked the ring out of his palm and Kuro chirped a protest, thinking she was taking it away from him, but then she slid it onto the ring finger of his left hand.  She smiled up at him.  “That looks great on you.”</p>
<p>Kuro trilled his pleasure.  “Thank you Pidge.  I accept your promise, and make one of my own.”  He brought the velvet bag out of his pocket with one hand while turning over one of Pidge’s palms with the other.  Into her upraised palm he tipped the contents of the bag: a heart-shaped pendant of black pavé diamonds on a yellow gold chain.  “My heart belongs to you.  I hope that you will keep it close to yours.”</p>
<p>“I will,” Pidge promised fervently.</p>
<p>It was at this moment that a trio of waiters came forth bearing a torte with nineteen flickering candles and singing ‘tanti auguri a te.’  Lance was crying and declaring it beautiful and he was probably not talking about the torte, although it too was beautiful in its way.  The torte was for celebrating Pidge’s birthday early, and Kuro wondered what she wished for as she blew out the candles.  Given the way she was looking at him, he could take a guess.  The renewed promise between them felt as solid and real as Pidge’s hand in his.  They would make it real, even if it took them twenty-two candles.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Saint’s family seemed to take the custom of naming rooms in stately homes after colors to its logical extreme of then decorating those rooms in only that color.  The larger guest bedroom suite had been restored and redecorated to suit the tastes of that suite’s sponsor, Great grandfather Maahox.  Lotor adored the iron chandelier and the heavy wood furniture covered in elaborate vines and leaves as if carved out of the very tree.  He was less partial to the mustard yellow everywhere, from bedclothes to drapes, but it wouldn’t stop him from commandeering this bedroom should he ever test Saint’s patience enough to kick him out of the green master suite.  Presently, Lotor sat in a mustard yellow armchair taking coffee with Maahox while discussing a matter of mutual importance.</p>
<p>“I needed one of those boys.”  Lotor stirred his coffee.  Great grandfather Maahox enjoyed his coffee unfiltered, which was a taste that Lotor was still in the process acquiring, but he figured if a man of Maahox’s advanced age drank it regularly, then surely it couldn’t be that bad for the ticker.  In any case, neither of them were taking it with cream due to Lent, so at least there was no dairy fat presently clogging his arteries.  “Now they’re alert to danger and I may never acquire one of them again.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be so melodramatic, boy.”  Maahox grinned from the depths of his mustard yellow armchair nearer the window.  “How were you planning to prove that Sincline was an alpha before the age of eight without tipping your hand anyway?  We’re trying to stay respectably under the radar, not have the international press beating down our doors accusing us of rogue science practices.”  He scoffed as he sipped his coffee.  “As if there is such a thing.  Show me a scientist without the gall of a rogue and I’ll show you a glorified lab assistant.  As it stands we’ve plenty of time to perfect the serum with no outside interference.  As for the bone marrow,” Maahox’s eyes glittered, “I have a plan to resolve that problem which may solve another one in the bargain.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith gingerly settled himself against the bed pillows so that he was sitting up straight with his back supported.  He’d learned the hard way that slumping could aggravate his heartburn, which was a serious bummer.  He picked up his iPad and saw Coran smiling at him in the video chat.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Getting the little nipper settled, eh?”</em>
</p>
<p>Keith smiled back.  “Yeah his appetite for red meat keeps the acid flowing in there.”  At Coran’s gasp of realization, he added, “Nobody else knows about that, by the way.  Please don’t tell Hunk’s mom.”</p>
<p>Coran winked broadly.  Behind him, Keith could see the colorful mosaic tiles on the walls of his hotel room in Morocco.  <em>“Your secret is safe with me.  If you think Herschel is a difficult name to pin on an infant, try Heironymous.”</em>  He sighed.  <em>“There’s little chance of passing Pop Pop’s name onto any infants now, I suppose.  I’ve been trying to bring Nanette around to the idea of adopting but she maintains that she’s raised one child already, and she’s content with that.  No agency is going to want to speak to a couple our age if we’re not both fully on board.”</em></p>
<p>“Oh, Coran.”  The thought that Coran might be too old to bear children had just never entered Keith’s head.  How would it feel to watch friends carry pups when unable to do the same?  It would probably suck.</p>
<p><em>“Don’t you fret about me, I’ve lived a satisfying life and I’ve more good years in me yet,”</em> Coran said firmly.  <em>“Now.  Tell me all about you, I’ve heard exciting news about your flying and I want to know everything.”</em></p>
<p>Keith filled him in on all of the gossip both important and trivial, but the at the back of his mind lingered the knowledge that something he hadn’t realized he’d wanted was something that a dear friend desperately wanted yet may never get to have.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance sat in his office applying a seam ripper to Keith’s nursing bras, separating each one into its sixteen constituent parts.  The modeling agency wanted him for a catalog campaign that wouldn’t be shooting for a couple of weeks yet, so Keith’s special delivery had arrived right on time to give him a meantime project to work on.  He took the underwires out of the channels, intending to discard them rather than stitch them back in; or maybe Haruka could use them.  Male omega teats only swelled during late pregnancy and shrank again after nursing, like with most other mammalian mothers.  Their mammaries did not have the dense fibrous tissues that women’s breasts had, therefore all that an underwire could offer to a male omega was a ledge for the teats to wobble over.</p>
<p>The stretchy fabrics Lance could work with, as well as the sturdy adjustable straps, which he set aside.  Thank goodness the cups weren’t molded, or they’d have been unusable.  They were, however, three section cups where a two section would probably be preferable.  Luckily the fabric pieces were large enough to accommodate a much larger mammary than Keith was likely to develop.  There was enough fabric that Lance could cut the sections into the right shape and size, and maybe use some fabric pens to give them a snazzier look than the whole cocktail napkin motif that these old brassieres seemed to have going on.</p>
<p>He was doodling possible designs he could use when he heard the Skype alert.  He set aside his project to answer the call.  “Hey Keith!  I got your bras, I’m working on them right now.  Keith?”</p>
<p>On the screen, Keith was sniffling and knuckling away tears.  Keith almost never cried.  Even when he came home after a long night stalking the boulevard in pointy-toed stilettos.  Even when worse things happened.  A flat affect was a truer sign of deep Keith distress, but tears were alarming for their pure rarity.</p>
<p>“Keith, what’s wrong?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Coran can’t carry pups!”</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh...”  Somehow, that statement made immediate and perfect sense while remaining something which had never occurred to Lance.  Coran, Coran the gorgeous man was a middle-aged omega, and male omegas generally had a shorter span of fertile childbearing years than their female counterparts.  Of course his chances of bearing children had passed him by.  Coran, the most giving human being who had so much to offer a child.</p>
<p>It wasn’t long at all before Lance was crying right along with Keith over the video chat.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro had taken a half day at work so that he could accompany Kuro to meet with his advisor at the red brick building where he would be taking his classes in lower Manhattan.  Shiro liked the proximity of the school to his own offices, which would make it easier for Kai to escort Kuro to the campus while still being available to take Shiro wherever he needed to go.  He didn’t care for the possibility that their schedules might conflict with Lance’s, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it.  For now, Shiro was just looking forward to a nice family dinner with his loved ones, which would presumably include Shinji whenever he returned from his own meetings in Midtown.  He opened the garden floor door and stepped aside to let Kuro in first, following him inside only to be accosted at the bottom of the stairs by Haruka.</p>
<p>“Shirogane-san, you must come upstairs!”  Mysteriously, she was not carrying Midori.  “Their pregnant hormones are making them cry!”</p>
<p>Kuro immediately darted up the stairs.  Shiro followed at a more dignified pace, despite Haruka’s hand wringing.  As he rounded the second newel post to get to the guest floor level, he could hear Lance crying in concert with another adult and a baby.  </p>
<p>Shiro stopped and turned to Haruka.  “Is that Midori?”</p>
<p>“I thought letting him hold the baby would calm him down,” Haruka insisted, “but instead it made it worse!”</p>
<p>Shiro finally put on some speed as he jogged up the rest of the way to the guest floor.  As he hit the landing he heard Kuro say, “Hē!” and then there were three adults crying plus one baby.  Great.  Fantastic.</p>
<p>Shiro sped down the hall and found the crying people crowding Lance’s office.  Lance sat in the bankers chair rocking Midori, who at eight months-old going on nine was big and strong enough to lean up over his bump grasping his collar in search of comfort.  She was looking in the wrong place because Lance’s teats had yet to swell with colostrum.  Kuro had knelt down beside Lance’s chair, and on the screen of the Surface Book propped up on the desk Shiro spotted the final member of their little impromptu barbershop quartet.  Keith sat crying amid pillows while scrubbing his tears away with the corner of a blanket.</p>
<p>“What’s going on in here?” Shiro demanded.  As he stood in the office doorway, Atlas ran out past his legs as if passing the torch of trying to console these emotional people.</p>
<p>“Shiro.”  Lance lifted his tear-streaked face to face the doorway.  “Coran can’t have pups!”</p>
<p>This brought about a fresh wave of caterwauling which momentarily caused Shiro’s brain to melt down.  This was his only excuse for why he didn’t immediately make the obvious connection, because his first thought was that surely Nanette would allow Coran to have a puppy if he agreed to take care of it.  He looked around in bewilderment at all the carrying on and noticed Midori pulling insistently (and futilely) at Lance’s collar, and finally a brain cell perked back to life.</p>
<p>“Oh, honey I’m sorry to hear that.”  In the back of his mind he must have known this already, but somehow that knowledge hadn’t ever made it to the prefrontal cortex.  Single motherhood was an option of longstanding social acceptability for alpha women, but for beta women and omegas it could be financially ruinous.  Particularly for the latter, as the status affected their hirability out of proportion compared to the others.  It was no surprise to Shiro that a man as romantic of temperament yet responsible to the bone as Coran would have opted to wait for The One, even if it meant waiting past his prime fertile years.  “Perhaps they can still adopt?”</p>
<p>“Sh-sh-she,” Lance sniffled, “she doesn’t want to!”</p>
<p>For a woman who had launched herself into adulthood on a bid for adventure, Nanette could be remarkably stubborn in her habits.  “Would it make you feel better if I speak with her about this?”  He certainly owed her a ‘kick in the pants’ talk.</p>
<p>So it came to pass that the Coran Consolation Society’s first unofficial meeting ended with calmed down omegas (and baby) and Shiro on the hook to try to talk an alpha woman of a certain age into having another child.  No pressure.  When Shinji got home, he laughed at Shiro’s predicament until Shiro reminded him that Tatsuo may yet want another child and that he was not yet of an age where he should just forget the notion, for he had been quite young when he’d had Kuro and had kept himself in excellent health since.</p>
<p>No pressure indeed.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro kept a bottle of Hibiki 17 in his home office, not hidden in a desk drawer like a former associate of his would have done but out in the open on the fireplace mantle.  The bottle was as beautiful as any knick knack, and what was inside it was a vintage that deserved its pride of place.  On this evening after dinner he went straight for it, pouring himself two fingers before sitting down at his desk to make his call.  The time zone Nanette was currently in was five hours ahead, but Shiro knew she kept later hours than most.  Still, he’d give her the courtesy of a voice only call.</p>
<p>Sure enough, she picked up her cell phone after only two rings.  <em>“What’s a man like you doing calling at a time like this?”</em></p>
<p>Shiro smiled at the old movie reference.  “I thought you were in Marrakesh?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“We are, but we spent some time in Casablanca first.  Who wouldn’t?  But seriously Shiro, why are you calling at this hour?  It’s a bit past your bedtime, isn’t it?”</em>
</p>
<p>Shiro’s smile thinned.  “I’m calling because it seems I still owe you a favor.”</p>
<p><em>“Dear God, you’re not about to lecture me on making an honest man of my omega, are you?”</em>  Nanette Dayak had a memory like a steel trap.  <em>“Before you start, you should know that we’ve already had a registry ceremony, back on Waiheke Island with Coran’s Great Aunts Berthenia and Modestine as our witnesses.”</em></p>
<p>“Congratulations!”  Shiro was genuinely pleased for them.  Everybody knew they’d been planning to have a small private ceremony during this trip, but everyone also thought that they were saving it for the last leg.  “Wait, does Allura know?”</p>
<p>“Of course she knows, she and Shay were sworn to secrecy.  We were planning to have a small reception upon our return and surprise everyone with a slide show.  I suppose we might as well just send out an announcement now, it will save those two from having to keep mum any longer.”</p>
<p>Shiro took a fortifying nip of whisky.  “Does this mean you’ll be following Allura’s and Shay’s lead in any other regards?”</p>
<p>There was a short pause on the other end of the line.  <em>“No I don’t believe we’ll have a block party.  We don’t need to accommodate an entire symphony orchestra’s worth of people, but our guest list is rather dispersed.  I was thinking a little soirée at the Tadich Grill would be more suitable for us, and then another one at Tavern On the Green.”</em></p>
<p>So much for the subtle approach.  “I’m not talking about parties, I’m talking about having children.”</p>
<p>Nanette laughed, long and low.  Shiro sipped his drink patiently, intending to cut in when she paused for breath, but then she said, <em>“Wait, wait,”</em> and she laughed some more.  Finally she said, <em>“Have you met my son?  His name is Drake, he’s thirty-four years-old, I believe he’s currently your lawyer.”</em></p>
<p>“I imagine if you wanted to give him a sibling you’d adopt someone considerably younger.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“But why would I need to do that?  I’ve raised a tremendous child if I do say so myself, and I’m his mother so I’m allowed to be undiscriminating in my belief that he is wonderful.  My obligations to society and to my bloodline are already fulfilled through him.”</em>
</p>
<p>“What about Coran?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ach, Coran, my darling one.  He raised Allura, you know.”</em>
</p>
<p>Shiro murmured that he knew.  He’d heard a lot of the story from Hunk during a discussion they’d had about the laws that restricted the circumstances under which unrelated alphas and omegas could live together.  Coran and Alfor had grown up together as stepbrothers.  When Alfor and Melenor died in a car accident, Coran had been Allura’s only living relative who could take her in, which he had done from just before she’d presented until she reached her eighteenth birthday just after high school.  Because they were not blood related, Coran could not legally house Allura any longer than that (as if a birthday was the factor that the authorities really needed to be concerned about) but with Allura being an alpha, she’d at least been able to plan for the eventuality using options which had not been available to Shay or Keith.  When she and Shay had a confidential civil ceremony well in advance of their planned church wedding, Coran had been the only one they’d initially told.</p>
<p>
  <em>“She’s as much a credit to him as to her natural parents.  He should be proud to have prepared her for the world.”</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m sure that he is.”  It was not humanly possible for anyone to be prouder of Allura than Coran.</p>
<p>
  <em>“He’s told me that his cycle has grown ever more irregular these last few years, and his doctor believes that it is coming to its natural end.  If I could give him a pup I would, but Mother Nature’s will is incontrovertible I’m afraid.”</em>
</p>
<p>Human omegas, orcas and pilot whales were the only mammals that were known to experience both estrus and menopause, and still there was much more written in science journals about how human ruts and menstruation worked than about human heats.  As a person married to someone who experienced them, it was rather infuriating how little was understood, not by inability but by a simple failure to try.  Shiro jotted down a note to himself to find out if there were any foundations out there dedicated to exploring the mysteries of human estrus that he could help fund or if he should create one, while trying to maintain at least some of his attention on the conversation he’d initiated.  “Can’t you at least give him a puppy?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“If it will make him happy of course I will.  But Shiro, I’ve lived through the teething, the terrible twos, the angst-ridden teens, all of that beautiful mess, and as singular of an experience as it was, I do not feel the call to experience motherhood anew.”</em>
</p>
<p>“What about fatherhood?”</p>
<p>There was another short silence.  <em>“Damn it all, you had to have the last word, didn’t you?”</em></p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>It was late morning where Tatsuo was.  Shinji knew this, so he knew that it was fine to call.  He considered this as he sat on the fussy ticking striped sheets in one of Shiro’s guest bedrooms.  On the other side of the world, Tatsuo was probably making temari balls out of old kimono, one of his favored activities when he was at loose ends.  Shinji could imagine him in Kuro’s apartment, sitting in the living room which Ryu had done up in a shade of blue so pale it was nearly white, stitching the past into the future.</p>
<p>Then the scene dissolved into Shinji’s own living room of ink black and paper white, and imaginary Tatsuo looked so natural there at his busy work that it spurred Shinji to take out his cell phone and call the real one.  Quickly, before he lost his nerve.  He waited for a five second eternity.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Moshi, moshi.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Tatsuo-san, it is me.”  Shinji swallowed.  His hands were sweating.  “Would you want to have a child with me?”</p>
<p><em>“Yes.”</em>  Absolutely no hesitation, but then Tatsuo had never been one for hesitations once he was sure what he was about.  <em>“But Shinji-san, where would we raise our child?”</em></p>
<p>“We will figure that out, I promise you.”  Shinji felt the smile rising on his face like the sun.  “It is enough for now that we know the answer to the first question.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lance woke up from a dream in which someone who felt very familiar was tapping on his window.  He opened his eyes on the darkened bedroom and the fuzzy shape of the cat sitting on his side of the bed looking at him expectantly in the moonlight.  Shiro was plastered to his back, warm and awake.  Lance could feel his excitement through the bond sense.</p>
<p>“Wha’s happening?” Lance slurred tiredly.  His limbs still felt heavy from sleep.</p>
<p>“The pup is kicking,” Shiro said.  His voice was an exhilarated quiver.</p>
<p>“Huh?”</p>
<p>Then he felt it.  <em>Tap</em>.  “Ohmaigah.”  The pup was kicking!  <em>Tap</em>.  Then he discovered what had actually woken him up was not just the pup tapping on his innards, but Shiro moving his hand around to tap the pup back.  <em>Tap</em>.  “Shiro, I wassleep.”</p>
<p>“Oh.  I’m sorry honey.”  <em>Tap, tap</em>.</p>
<p>“Stahp.”</p>
<p>“Okay, I’ll stop now.”</p>
<p><em>Tap</em>.  Atlas batted at Lance’s belly and then had to leap off the bed to get out of the way of Lance’s clumsy arm batting back.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Pidge swore she saw the living room curtains flip closed as she pulled into the driveway at Keith’s house.  It was unusual for Keith to ask her to pick him up for their doggie play dates, but his belly was growing by the week so maybe his back really did hurt.  However, it was also not their usual day to go to the dog park.  It just so happened to be her birthday though, which her boss had also just so happened to let her take as a day off.  All of these things together made her suspicious.</p>
<p>“Let’s go check it out,” she said to Bae Bae as she unbuckled her harness from the safety belt.  “But be quiet, okay girl?”</p>
<p>Bae Bae made a huffing noise.  She understood what ‘quiet’ meant.</p>
<p>Pidge made as much noise as she normally would getting out of the car and letting Bae Bae out on the passenger’s side, but instead of heading for the front porch, she crept around through the side yard with the dog padding silently beside her.  The only familiar car she noticed on the curb was Keith’s, which could mean that whoever was inside the house had carpooled and squeezed their vehicle into the garage beside Hunk’s.  She slowly and carefully opened the gate to the back patio and stole inside, where it smelled like something delicious was on the grill.  Two dark-haired men looked up at her unauthorized entrance.  Both of them smiled at her.</p>
<p>“Told’ja,” said Keith.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you called it,” said Hunk.  “It figures the Lore Master whose tenure has seen more turnover of Shiro’s avatars than any other would see right through a surprise party.  Happy birthday by the way.”</p>
<p>“Thanks.”  Pidge grinned back at them.  “Think you can let me in the back door quietly enough so I can take a picture before they realize I’m behind them?”</p>
<p>Before Pidge could hope to snap a few shots of her loved ones crouching behind furniture, Kosmo poked his head out the doggie door and spotted Bae Bae, and the resultant joyous barking alerted all inside the house that the birthday girl had pulled a fast one.  Out onto the patio they trooped to ruffle her hair and congratulate her for turning another year older.  Pidge had always felt a little weird about how birthdays were like that.  Like, how is just letting enough time roll by to require updating social media profiles really an accomplishment worth observing with cake and presents?  That was like putting it on a par with winning awards and earning degrees.  Weird.</p>
<p>But as her mother brought out a batch of peanut butter cookies made just for her, Pidge remembered that weird was also fine by her.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Kuro blinked in the bright light of the hallway outside of the black box theater where orientation had just taken place.  The new students had been encouraged to take as many drop-in classes as they liked during their first week, in order to gain a better sense of what they wanted to concentrate in as they progressed.  Kuro stepped aside to get out of the way of other students streaming out of the theater and down the hall, and looked at the day’s drop-in schedule.  They’d been given a paper copy along with other orientation paperwork, and advised on how to look up the drop-in-schedules online.  Kuro could opt out of taking a class on the very first day, but he didn’t want to.  He wanted to leap right in with both feet, and Kai had entrusted him to navigate the building himself until he was called for a pickup, so he could do that.</p>
<p>He noticed that a 'ballroom for beginners' class would be starting in a third floor room in less than an hour.  It was the instructor’s name which had caught his eye: Sven Holgersson.  Ani had noticed his picture on the wall of staff photos in the advisor’s office and remarked on it when they’d come in to meet Kuro’s advisor.  Apparently this Holgersson had taught Ani the sort of dancing he had done at his wedding.  Sven Holgersson had a friendly looking face.  Kuro decided that this would be a fine class to take as his introduction to the school.</p>
<p>There were changing rooms on each floor, but Kuro had arrived already wearing joggers and a t-shirt, with his slip-on jazz shoes tucked into his smallest duffel.  He didn’t anticipate needing to change clothes, but if he did there was a store on the bottom floor selling all sorts of dance supplies.  He would just go up to the classroom first and see if perhaps the instructor was already there.  At his old school this was often the case, and if they were still teaching they would allow students to quietly watch from the doorway while they waited between classes.</p>
<p>There was a small lift near the door to the administrative office in the lobby, but Kuro went for the staircase.  It was just wide enough to allow traffic moving in both directions if the people walking up and down moved in an orderly procession, which these people did.  Kuro felt the different languages being spoken wash over him like a waterfall as he climbed.  He smelled many dynamics in the stairwell, mostly beta, but also quite a few alpha and even a couple of other omega like himself.  None of them seemed to take any particular notice of him as they hurried to wherever they were going.  The fact that New Yorkers rushed around just as much as Tokyojin was rather comforting to Kuro; a familiar custom in a strange place.  </p>
<p>The studio where the ballroom dance class was to take place had large windows to maximize the light, reflecting off the wall mirrors along the interior side of the room and making the space feel bigger than it actually was.  In the room, a tall man wearing a Latin dance outfit was speaking to a young couple in similar outfits.  The couple were a mated pair by the way their scents commingled instead of remaining distinct when they were standing together.  Perhaps they had been in the advanced class which had ended fifteen minutes before?  If so, their sensei was remarkably easygoing to allow himself to be detained for such a long time after class.</p>
<p>Kuro waited as unobtrusively as he could in the hall just outside of the door until the young couple left, and then he went in.  The man in the Latin dance outfit turned, and it was indeed Sven Holgersson, elegantly imposing in head to toe black.  Was Kuro improperly dressed for this class after all?  But Sven offered a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his blue eyes as Kuro bowed in greeting.</p>
<p>“Good day to you, serah,” Sven said, offering a hand to clasp.  “Have I met you before?  You look so familiar to me.”</p>
<p>“You have previously taught my brother, Shirogane Takashi,” Kuro said as he accepted the single hand clasp.  “I am told we look a lot alike.”  Though personally Kuro didn’t see it.</p>
<p>“Ah, Shiro, yes of course!”  Sven brightened with recognition.  “Wonderful dancer he was, very clean form, though I often wished he would go more crazy with his improvisation.  Are you here to learn the classic dances as well?”</p>
<p>Kuro nodded.  “Yes I am, Mister Holgersson.  I hope I am not under-dressed.”</p>
<p>“You may call me Sven,” he said cheerfully.  “Your clothing is perfectly fine for the beginner’s class.  We’ll be learning the Slow Waltz today, it is a dance that can be done comfortably in street clothes, but I hope that you will not assume that means it is not a worthy challenge.  It is my personal belief that dancers of all disciplines can benefit from learning how to be more spatially aware of a dance partner.”</p>
<p>As the hour waxed on, the classroom filled with students and the lesson proceeded, Kuro found that he was inclined to agree with Sven-sensei.  His cheer dance class had covered many partnered moves such as mirroring and lifts, but not the give and take of moving in concert with a partner around a large space.  He found the lesson valuable enough that he intended to drop in again.  He hoped the rest of his classes would be as good as this one was.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance lay back on the ultrasound table as Ritsuko moved the transducer around his jelly-covered belly, mindful of his recently popped-out belly button.  Shiro stood on the other side of the table holding his hand as they both watched the monitor swirl in silver and grey.</p>
<p>“Have you felt the quickening yet?” Ritsuko asked, as the pups’s heartbeat thumped out of the monitor’s speakers in time with the occasional flash of the heart beating, which they could all see through glimpses of a tiny ribcage.</p>
<p>“A little fluttering now and then,” Lance confirmed.  “Esther’s been going for the gold in there.”</p>
<p>“We’re not naming her Esther,” Shiro said absentmindedly as the image shifted and then once more coalesced into a wriggling baby shape.  Ritsuko had been moving the transducer around and stopping in certain places to take measurements.</p>
<p>“You will be glad to know that the pup is a healthy weight for gestational age and appears to be developing normally,” Ritsuko said as she wrote down the information on her chart.  “Would you like to know the primary gender?”</p>
<p>Lance turned his head to look up at Shiro, tugging on his hand to get him to stop staring at the monitor.  “I want to know.”</p>
<p>Shiro smiled down at him.  “Then so do I.”</p>
<p>“Alright then.  Let’s see if your little one will hold still long enough to get a good glimpse.”  Ritsuko moved the transducer again, looking for an angle as the baby shape on the monitor grabbed its own foot.  “Here we are.  See the folds, there?  It’s a baby girl.”</p>
<p>“Ha!”  Lance grinned in delight as his daughter played with her toes.  “I win.”</p>
<p>“Glad I didn’t have any bets riding on that one.”  Shiro leaned down to kiss the side of Lance’s head.  “We’re still not naming her Esther.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Still progressing normally.”  Doctor Page sounded very pleased as Nurse Ware moved the transducer around Keith’s stomach, stopping periodically so that the doctor could take measurements and notes.  “Healthy little one pounder.  Do you still want the primary gender confirmed?”</p>
<p>Hunk tore his eyes away from the monitor where Sunny was sucking his thumb to look at Keith.  “I want to know,” Keith said while still smiling at the image.</p>
<p>“Yeah, me too,” Hunk said.</p>
<p>“This pup is pretty chill,” said Nurse Ware.  “If the cord doesn’t get in the way it should be easy– yep, there it is.  Do you see the turtle shape?”</p>
<p>Doctor Page pointed it out too just in case they weren’t catching it.  “It’s a boy, confirmed,” he said.</p>
<p>Keith finally looked away from the monitor to gaze up at Hunk with damp eyes.  “I’m so stoked but now we really have to find the perfect name for Sunny.”</p>
<p>Hunk stroked the long hair away from Keith’s neck.  Allura’s suggestion of elided names had remained on his mind past the babymoon.  “What do you think about Heith?”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance and Shiro came home with a C-shaped body pillow and catalogs from what seemed like every baby store on Madison Avenue, and brought the catalogs into the half-finished nursery.  They agreed that the pale cream non-toxic paint Haruka had chosen when this room was redecorated into a changing room was still a good choice.  It was neutral, and it was already on the walls, which meant they could pretty much go wild with the rest of the furnishings.</p>
<p>“I know pink is supposed to be traditional for a girl, but I don’t think our girl needs to have an explosion of it in here,” Lance said.  They were both seated on the yarn rug in the center of the room, with the catalogs fanned out around them.  “Some pink would be pretty, but we don’t have to go overboard with it.”</p>
<p>“It was traditionally considered a pale shade of red in Japanese culture,” Shiro said.  “It has noble connotations associated with red, but I agree with you about using it in moderation, because it’s a really strong color.  Maybe we could mix it up with some blue.  I’ve always liked the color blue.”</p>
<p>“Me too,” Lance said.  He looked around trying to mentally superimpose nursery furniture over the empty spots in the room.  “I think blue is just as nice for a girl as for a boy.”</p>
<p>“There are shades of blue specifically associated with summer.”  Shiro turned to his mate with a giddy little smile.  “That’s when our girl is coming.”</p>
<p>“I like that idea,” Lance said.  “Noble pink and summer blue.  I think we’ve got our nursery colors, querido.”  He held up his hand and Shiro high-fived it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Hunk and Keith had come home with imagawayaki and brightly colored washi paper.  They sat together at the dining table eating the red bean cakes and making butterfly origami, which they planned to use for a mobile in the baby’s room.  The baby whose name was still under discussion.  They’d both latched onto the idea of eliding or rearranging family names, including their own, and they both liked the name Heith.  They just weren’t sure if they liked it for Sunny.</p>
<p>“It sounds like the name of a Romantic hero,” Keith said as a butterfly began to take shape in his hands.  “You know, the kind who’s mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”</p>
<p>Hunk thought that actually sounded a lot like Keith’s aura when they’d first met, but he could see why that might not be a perfect match to their bacon and egg loving pup, who always seemed like he was listening to his own private soundtrack of slack key guitar whenever they watched him on the sonogram at ultrasound appointments.  Thinking of eggs, though, “Maybe that would be a good name for our broodling in the game.”</p>
<p>“Prince Heith of the Marmora, born in exile.”  Keith grinned across the table at Hunk.  “I like that.  Maybe we can even maintain the character’s stats until Sunny is old enough to play him.  Hey, what about Hale for Sunny?”</p>
<p>Hunk appreciated the thoughtfulness toward his mother with that suggestion, but, “Then he’d go through life explaining to everybody he meets that the pronunciation isn’t phonetic.”  Pappy used to complain about trying to correct the bag boys at the grocery store only to have them call him Mister Holly.  “What about Kōhei?  It’s got a little of your family name and a little of Pappy’s if you squint, and I think it can mean farmer if you use the right kanji.”  </p>
<p>“Now we’re back to deer farmer again.”  Keith leaned one elbow on the table and put his chin in his hand, his face a picture of frustration.  “I wish there was a good name that’ll get them off our backs but that actually means something similar to sunlight.”  Then he sat bolt upright, one hand thumping to the tabletop as the other one dropped the butterfly he’d been working on.  “What about Kiyoshi?”</p>
<p>“Using kanji for radiant lucidity?”  Hunk thought about it.  “The meaning fits.”</p>
<p>“It’s also got a little bit of Keith and a little bit of Tsuyoshi in it,” Keith said with a smile, “but we can still call him Sunny just like how everybody calls you Hunk.”</p>
<p>“Keith that’s awesome.”  Kiyoshi ‘Sunny’ Garrett.  It was perfect, and Hunk was fully prepared to fight his mother on it if she tried to try to tell him different.</p>
<p>Keith brushed imaginary lint off one shoulder.  “Yeah, I’m good like that.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Colleen had come to L.A. for her daughter’s birthday and lingered for other reasons.  She could have done this by conference call like Thace and Kolivan were doing, but some things were better done in person.  She needed to be in the same room as Orla, to see the bags settling in under her eyes and smell the tiredness wafting off of her as she sat at the conference table with the other agents on the joint task force.  Orla had cut her blonde hair short, the better to hide it under the hoodie she wore almost constantly now.  Colleen would have had trouble believing her if she hadn’t seen and smelled for herself how she was really affected by everything that had happened.</p>
<p>“Macidus ordered that hit,” Orla was saying, rather snappishly.  “He had to have.”</p>
<p><em>“I agree with you.”</em>  Kolivan’s voice was a soothing rumble over the Polycom on the conference table.  <em>“However, you have to agree that the evidence does point toward him delegating that task to another.  That does not make him any less guilty in the eyes of anyone present.”</em></p>
<p>It turned out that Macidus had been with Orla during the entire time frame in which the coroner’s findings showed that Charles McClain had been killed.  Nobody in that room doubted Macidus’s guilt, but his involvement would be more difficult to prove in a court of law.  The other assembled law enforcement agencies had other reasons for hoping to broker some sort of custody agreement regarding Macidus, and their reasons were likely going to take the lead while the matter of Charles McClain’s death went on the back burner.  Orla was clearly not happy about this.  Quite frankly, neither was Colleen.</p>
<p>“Who do you think he would have trusted to do it for him?” she asked Orla.  “Would he have used the Ultra Droids?”</p>
<p>Ultra Droids: the name was deceptively kitsch.  They were actually a well organized gang who had what could be considered a good working relationship with Macidus Drew.  Macidus was one of those rare kingpins who didn’t avoid doing his own dirty work as soon as he obtained enough power to order someone else to do it for him.  But when logistics or his own reptilian sense of self preservation demanded, he would hand such errands over to others, and usually those others were the Ultra Droids.</p>
<p>“Without question,” Orla replied, then sighed.  “In fact, he probably would have asked for Sendak.  I always wondered why Macidus never came after me for that.”</p>
<p>Sendak was one of gang leader Daibazaal’s most trusted lieutenants in the Ultra Droids.  Brutally competent and believed to be ambitious in his own right, he might be difficult to pin down as well, but at least he wasn’t out of the country.</p>
<p>“Do you think Sendak figured out the connection and kept it to himself?” Mary Ann asked.</p>
<p>“He must have,” Orla said, hunching her shoulders.  “He could have used it to give himself the upper hand.”</p>
<p>Mary Ann looked around the table with a grave look on her face.  “I guess we know who’s going to try to fill the power vacuum left now that Macidus is out of town.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The cabin’s deck had southern exposure, with a nice view of the hoop gardens on one side and the tree line on the other.  Days had been getting warmer with nights remaining cold, turning the snow pack into a corn-like shape that would have made it perfect for sledding, if the girls had been old enough.  As it was, they were all glad to have some time out on the deck in the sunlight after a long winter mostly spent indoors.  Narti and Acxa watched Zora and Roza cruise around the deck railing, ready to swoop in if either of them made a bid for the stairs.  The twins had platinum blonde hair coming in, currently hidden under knit caps, but otherwise they were looking more like Acxa by the day.  Some day soon they might have to run from the wolf who would call himself their grandfather, but on this day they’d play under the sun.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Matt and Sam Holt sat in lawn chairs on Matt’s back porch, while inside Pidge napped off a full belly on the couch, and Colleen and Ryan carried on a discussion about the merits and demerits of domestic beer as they wrapped up leftovers to send home with Pidge.  Sam held Banon in his lap, and he was nodding and agreeing to the baby’s babble as if he understood every ‘ba’ and ‘da’ aimed in his general direction.  Banon was dressed like the Easter bunny courtesy of Grandma, and much too young yet to be embarrassed about it.  Unencumbered with an adult’s sense of mortification he had those silly knit ears a’flopping, because he was big enough to sit up on his own and had gained good motor control of his neck, but he still tended to teeter unless he could get a little hand on a flat surface, of which Grandpa, skinny though he be, was not.  Then Banon nearly gave Matt a heart attack trying to catch a bumble bee that had buzzed by on its way to the lilac shrub in the backyard.</p>
<p>Sam helped him shoo away the bee without startling the baby, both of them laughing in relief as the baby shrieked in innocent delight.  Banon wasn’t allergic to bee stings and it was anyone’s guess how far the stinger would have gotten past that bunny suit anyway, but Matt didn’t want to find out.  Easter brunch had been great so far.  He didn’t want to ruin his child’s enjoyment of the holiday by accidentally exposing him to a bee sting on his very first go-round.  It was bad enough that he’d been photographed in the bunny suit.  Memories could fade, but pictures were forever, and he knew that just as the Earth was round, someday Aunt Pidge would be showing that picture to Banon’s prom date.</p>
<p>“Your garden’s shaping up fine, Matt,” Sam said once the bee threat had been dealt with.  “This time next year it’ll be a beautiful place for this little one to hunt Easter eggs.”</p>
<p>“Thanks Dad.”  Matt imagined a future Banon careening over the stepping stones he’d laid down after pruning a pathway through the yard.  The baby’s basket would wave around in his unsteady hands as one of his parents (probably Ryan) followed too closely with a camera.  Everybody else would be cheering the boy on as he tried to locate each colorful egg carefully placed at an eye level where a toddler could spot it.  As good as the garden looked now, it would look even better in a year’s time.</p>
<p>The foliage was doing markedly better ever since they’d planted the Catalina Cherry tree on top of Banon’s placenta, as if the afterbirth was nourishing the entire yard.  When Ryan had first told him that it was an old custom in his family Matt had feared they wouldn’t be able to have a hospital delivery and still have that too, but he’d committed to getting all the necessary release forms signed and acquired his own specimen bags.  In the end he had no regrets about it.  Ryan got to observe an important tradition, and the garden was flourishing.  Matt hoped he would be able to share the wonder of growing things with his child, as his father had done with him. </p>
<p>But there was one visual from this glimpse into the future that could still use an intervention.  “If you can convince Mom not to put him in a bunny suit next year, that would make it even better.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“And anyone can really dance in this festival?”  Kuro looked around at all the other participants gathering near the corner of 49th Street and 5th Avenue.  There were people dressed like woodland creatures and mythical creatures, and some simply dressed up like they were going to a fancy event that just happened to be out of doors.  There were even people walking dogs that were wearing there own fantastical costumes.  Although some groups looked like variations on a theme, nobody seemed to be representing a team.  “How do they remain synchronized?”</p>
<p>Kuro had worn a nice black shirt and trousers so as to be like a kurogo with his hanagasa straw hat as the star element of his outfit.  He had worn the hat with the Nichibu Club dance team during the previous year’s Hanamatsuri festival.  He had missed this year’s festival, and mentioning that was what had prompted Ani to suggest they participate in the Easter Parade.  It was still a little cold outside to wear his matsuri yukata, and besides which, New York City streets were generally dirtier than any of the streets in Tokyo.  Kuro had thought his outfit would be fine and even feared it might be outlandish – New Yorkers wore a lot of black, a fact which he liked a great deal, but he’d never noticed many of them wearing large colorful hats before this day.  However, he was now feeling a bit sedate by comparison to other festival-goers.</p>
<p>“It’s more of a promenade than a dance,” Ani said.  He was wearing a grey stroller suit with a purple tie.  He, too, had worn a straw hat, but his was of a much smaller circumference and was decorated with purple ribbon and flowers in contrast to the wide canopy and large red flowers of Kuro’s hanagasa.  “We’ll be setting off just as soon as Rachel and Daniel get here.  They went to morning services, but they said they were sure they could still make it.”</p>
<p>Mere moments after he said this, Ani waved and they were shortly joined by Lance’s sister Rachel and her beau Daniel, both of them dressed in semi-formal clothing with pastel accents.  Rachel’s hat was similar in shape and size to Kuro’s but the flowers were all pink and yellow, and stuck in a wide ribbon band.  Rachel greeted Kuro fondly as Ani relayed Lance’s regrets that he wasn’t going to catch up with them until later.  Between his concern that he’d have them stopping into every shop on the route to use the restroom and his dismay that his feet had gotten too big to wear his nicest walking shoes, Lance had bowed out of the walkabout but would meet up with them for the dinner they’d been invited to at Daniel’s grandmother’s apartment.  Kai was going to pick them up at the end of the parade route.</p>
<p>Linking arms, the small group set off amid the big colorful crowd, as the bells from nearby churches pealed out over the avenue.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>It had finally happened.  Lance’s feet had gone up a half size.  As if his tootsies needed to get any bigger.  Before, they’d been jack rabbit sized.  Now they were approaching snow shoe territory.</p>
<p>It wasn’t just his feet that were relaxing, though.  He was finding it more difficult to maintain good posture with the growing weight of his daughter poking out front, and consequently, his back pain was returning.  Doctor Gorma said that gentle back and core strengthening exercises might help with this.  Lance had taken advantage of the nursery floor being cleared out to practice his hip circles and figure eights, which did seem to help.  He felt sure that the promised Pilates class could help even further, and he really needed to get on Shiro to make it happen, but nagging could wait until after this dinner party.  He was turning into his own mother and he was too pregnant to care.</p>
<p>Daniel and his grandmother had invited them over to their apartment on Bayard Street.  Lance put on his bouclé suit and rode in the front seat with Kai to go pick up the rest of the party, with a box of fruit balanced on the amount of lap he had left.  He was wildly entertained at watching four full grown adults trying to cram into a backseat meant to comfortably seat three behinds.  All the legroom in the world meant little if there wasn’t enough space for cheeks.  This limited mobility thing was starting to do things to Lance’s brain.</p>
<p>Thankfully, the apartment building had an elevator.  The building’s doorman helped them out of the limo, and then Kai went home to have dinner with his family after which he would return to collect them.  When they arrived at the fifth floor apartment, there were red banners around the front door with calligraphy characters painted on them in gold.  Daniel explained that they were couplets wishing blessings on all who passed through.  They were a celebratory decoration popular during the Lunar New Year, but some congregants of their church also put them up at Easter.</p>
<p>Ren greeted them at the front door and accepted the hostess gift of eight Fortune apples with a gracious smile.  The apartment opened on the most clutter-free kitchen Lance had ever seen.  He knew from Rachel talking about it that Ren possessed an impressive array of heirloom pots and pans, but those were squared away.  Countertops were cleared and appliances gleamed.  The breakfast bar held a vase of fresh and fragrant red peonies.  Ren sat the apples down next to the vase as she showed the guests where to trade their shoes for house slippers.  Shiro knelt and helped Lance shuffle out of his ergonomic shoes and into slippers as he balanced with both hands on Shiro’s shoulders.</p>
<p>Ren led them into a dining room that was completely open to the living room, through which Lance could see eclectic furniture pieces, and an abundance of green plants on the window sill behind a cozy looking couch.  The dining table was large and round with a built-in lazy Susan, and set for six with a centerpiece of colorful Easter eggs.  It seemed there was to be less formality for this meal than the one they’d shared at Rachel’s place.  This time it was Shiro who was ushered to the place of honor facing roughly in the direction of the door, and Ren who took the seat nearest the kitchen and brought out the food.  With Daniel assisting her she brought out four courses all at once: char siu, double-stewed soup, stir-fried choy sum, and yi mein noodles.</p>
<p>Ren said grace and toasted them all with jasmine tea, and then they drank, and ate.  It was delicious, and Shiro was being very sweet and attentive.  Lance soaked it in.  As they ate, they talked about the events of the day, and eventually the dinner table conversation came around to Rachel’s wedding gown.</p>
<p>“I have seen the design your mother is working on, and she is doing a marvelous job,” Ren said.  “Your gown is beautiful, Rachel.”</p>
<p>Rachel blushed and expressed her thanks on behalf of her mother for the compliment.  Lance had seen the pictures of the work in progress as well, and he agreed that it was beautiful.  Mamá had designed an A-line gown in a crisp snowy shade that would look good against Rachel’s skin tone, with cap sleeves and a jewel neckline so that she could be in compliance with the modesty rules of the venue.  Then Mamá had added a flowing chapel train, and if Lance knew her at all there would be a shit-ton of organza ruffles on the skirt before she was done.  Unlike Lance though, Rachel probably wouldn’t sweat the extra frills and flounce.</p>
<p>“But my dear,” Ren said, “I wonder when you will have your bridal attendants fitted for their gowns?  They will need to be ordered and then altered, which can take months.  I can get you an appointment at a small bridal salon with an excellent reputation, they’ve been in their present location for decades.”</p>
<p>“Oh thank you so much Ayí, I would be grateful,” Rachel said.  “The thing is, Kiere is all set to be fitted for a gown, but Omnia, um.  Well, there might be an issue.”</p>
<p>Kiere Altair was Rachel’s closest friend from university.  Omnia was pregnant.  By the time Rachel walked down the aisle, Omnia would be as big as Lance was right at that moment.</p>
<p>“But I’ll get it all worked out,” Rachel said, “I promise.”  </p>
<p>She must have been hoping to find another bridal attendant in time to avoid having to explain why Omnia couldn’t do it.  Not an easy task in a city where she’d lived for less than two years with so few close family members living nearby and with such strict requirements governing who could fill the role.  But if Rachel were to decide that she’d have just one bridesmaid now, then Daniel would have to ask one of his second cousins to back out of being a groomsman.  Weddings were dramatic enough on their own without adding extended family drama to the mix.</p>
<p>“I will make the appointment for you, and trust that the issue will be resolved before then,” Ren said.  “If we wait too long, I fear their gowns will not be ready in time for the wedding album photo sessions.  I’m sure you don’t want your bridal attendants to be wearing ill-fitting or mismatching gowns in the pictures.”</p>
<p>It seemed that the bride’s traditional prerogative to look great while the bridesmaids stood next to her looking a hot mess was not going to be a factor here.  Rachel made assurances that she would have two bridal attendants ready for duty on whatever appointed day they had to show up for fittings.  Daniel took it upon himself to serve more tea, eliciting finger taps of appreciation and taking the heat off of Rachel.  They continued to enjoy the dinner, which ultimately culminated in bowls of sweet red bean soup containing tiny pearls of chewy sago.  </p>
<p>The question of who would be the other bridal attendant was raised again in the limo on the way home.  This time there was enough space for Lance to sit in the backseat because Daniel had remained behind at the apartment.  Shiro took the front seat and Rachel sat between Lance and Kuro.  Lance patted her hand as she worried over the predicament she now found herself in.</p>
<p>“Even if Omnia still wanted to do it, I don’t think she could,” Rachel fretted.  “There’s the clash of joy, and even if she could hide that, she might be married by then.”</p>
<p>Lance didn’t think marriage was a guarantee in Omnia’s case, as he knew from the occasional gabfest with Antor that they were still figuring out how to be a dating couple while simultaneously planning for a bundle of joy, but the clash of joy remained an issue.  There was little chance of Omnia hiding a six month belly, nor would it be kind to ask her to try.  “What about your friends at school?” he asked.</p>
<p>“I suppose I’ll have to start asking,” Rachel sighed.  “There’s no way to ask these questions without getting too intrusive for a casual friend.”  She started listing them off on her free hand, using the unique finger counting habits of the Alvárez family.  “Have you ever been married, how many weddings have you been in, what’s your lunar zodiac sign, do you think there’s any chance you might become pregnant.  Kiere might be my only friend left at school by the time I’m done.”</p>
<p>Kiere was an outgoing bombshell from Queens whom Lance had met and judged to be a stand up lady.  She’d been privy to the drama leading up to the present situation, and she was a steady sort besides, but she was one of those ‘one in a million’ friends of whom there may be no equal in Rachel’s friend group.  Lance himself would have found ways to discover all that information from acquaintances without causing too much offense by employing every ounce of charm at his disposal, but Lance was fairly shameless and Rachel was made of more restrained stuff.  Speaking of shameless people though, “What about Nadia?”</p>
<p>Rachel frowned as she thought it over.  There were already children Nadia’s age in the wedding; distant cousins of Daniel’s in the roles of ring bearer and flower girls.  Children whose animal signs had already been factored in by Master Sypat, and who conveniently lived near enough to one another that they could be fitted for their matching outfits as a group.  “Well she’s only been in one wedding party before, and she’s definitely not going to be married before the day,” Rachel sighed.  “I just wish there was someone who lived here and who already knows their zodiac sign.  We already knew Omnia was born in a Snake year, and Master Sypat already checked the almanac.  Now he’ll probably have to check it again.”</p>
<p>Of course, the alternative was to simply ask Ren to supply a candidate, but that would require admitting that Rachel didn’t actually have the situation handled.</p>
<p>“I was born in a Snake year,” Kuro spoke up from Rachel’s other side.  “I have only been in one wedding party before, and I will be living here through the end of August.  I won’t be married until,” he squinted as he did a second’s mental calculation, “Haha will probably want us to wait until the year of the Dragon.”</p>
<p>“Oh Kuro, would you?”  Rachel let go of Lance’s hand to reach other and clasp one of Kuro’s.  “Would you be in my wedding?”</p>
<p>Kuro shyly gave his assent and much squealing ensued.  Lance met Shiro’s smiling gaze in the rear view mirror.  Once again a minor crisis was averted thanks to Kuro.  The kid deserved a medal.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Hunk opened the front door and stood aside to let Keith in first.  Keith was looking forward to some fried rice for dinner and a foot rub on the couch later courtesy of hubby.  In fact, maybe he’d just go in there now and take a load off in the transitional chair with his feet kicked up on the ottoman.  Hunk didn’t really need his help to fry rice, especially if he just grabbed leftovers out of the fridge like they’d talked about on the ride home.  Keith got two steps into the living room before somebody was throwing confetti over his hair.</p>
<p>“Surprise!”</p>
<p>“Mom?”</p>
<p>Keith let his mother pull him into a hug as the lights turned on.  Behind her were Akane, Jiro, Gyrgan, and young Tommy with Kosmo leaning against him squirming for head pats.  Kosmo clearly did not perceive this situation as any sort of treachery.  The others must have been hiding in the dining room because Keith could hear another conversation going on behind him in the kitchen.</p>
<p>“It’s your surprise gender reveal party!”  That was Alana’s voice.</p>
<p>“Mom, that’s not a thing!” Hunk said.  “How would you even know that we knew?”</p>
<p>“Someone may have fallen asleep on the back patio with a sonogram picture in his hand the other day,” said Krolia as she finally released her son from the embrace.</p>
<p>Keith gulped.  That someone had been him.  His mother had come over to do a little light housecleaning as a favor, so he'd gone out onto the patio with his favorite reading material of late: Sunny's sonogram pictures.  How was he supposed to anticipate that she’d sneak onto the patio and read the sonogram after he dozed off?  He stared at Kosmo silently asking why the dog had not deigned to wake him up for that.  Kosmo stared back, puzzled as to why his human was not using his words.</p>
<p>“So if all of you guys know the gender too, then who’s actually going to be surprised, here?” Hunk asked.</p>
<p>“Well, son,” said Jin, shifting his weight as if wondering if he should prepare to run, “there’s a little more to it then that.”</p>
<p>“We brought cakes!” said Alana.</p>
<p>“And may the best cake win,” said Krolia.</p>
<p>“You want us to judge cakes you made?” Keith asked incredulously.</p>
<p>“Oh, no,” said Alana, “no that wouldn’t be fair.”</p>
<p>“We ordered the cakes,” Krolia clarified, which actually cleared up nothing.</p>
<p>Keith and Hunk exchanged panicked glances as they were ushered into the dining room.  The table had been loaded up with paper plates and napkins, a jug of root beer, and the bamboo sporks and jelly glasses which they must have raided from the kitchen.  There were also two cake box shapes shrouded in plastic bags with grocery store logos on them.</p>
<p>“We needed to ensure similar quality in materials and labor, and we agreed that we wouldn’t supervise,” Krolia said as they stared at the mystery bags.  “Special ordering from grocery store bakeries with a price ceiling seemed like the best way to abide by the rules.”</p>
<p>Those two had actually turned this into a contest with rules.  What the actual fuck.</p>
<p>“I make no promises,” said Hunk.</p>
<p>“I’m with him,” said Keith.</p>
<p>“Can we eat cake now?”  Lena leaned on her mother pretending to faint.  “I’m so hungry.”</p>
<p>“My sweet little drama queen,” Hina lightly scolded her.</p>
<p>“Guess that means I’m up first,” Alana decided.  “Prepare to feast your eyes on this masterpiece!”</p>
<p>She unwrapped the cake box with a flourish and opened it to reveal a blue penis cake with a derp face stenciled on the testicular area.  The derp face had ‘hurrrr’ written in royal icing along the shaftular area.  Keith’s stomach jumped as he tried to hold in a laugh.  Maybe he could pass it off as Sunny hiccuping.  Hina tried to cover Lena’s eyes with one hand and Manny’s with the other.  Gyrgan just stepped sideways to block Tommy’s view.</p>
<p>“I told them to make it for a boy named Herschel and make it blue, how did they get this from that?”  Alana was shooketh.</p>
<p>“Jiro, you want to help me cut this thing into something more family friendly?” Jin asked.  His brother hopped to and they began cutting and rearranging the cake into less X-rated pieces.</p>
<p>“You called it in, didn’t you,” Krolia said smugly.  “People misunderstand instructions if you don’t put them in writing.  You should have texted the order in like I did.”</p>
<p>Keith and Hunk traded another look as Akane said “Uh oh,” under her breath.  Krolia’s texts tended to be unspellchecked and succinct to the point of Dadaism.  This should be educational.</p>
<p>“Alright then,” Alana said, hands on hips, “let’s see what you got.”</p>
<p>Krolia unwrapped the cake box as Gyrgan gave her an impromptu drum roll.  Revealed inside the box was a sheet cake with a photo of a Yorkie dog in edible ink.  Written across one corner was ‘BOY I’m cute’ in blue icing.  It was cute, but it would have been a lot cuter if anybody knew whose dog that was.</p>
<p>“My darling,” said Gyrgan, “I believe you’ve been foiled by autocorrect.”</p>
<p>“Well my cake is still objectively better,” Krolia insisted, folding her arms defiantly.</p>
<p>“What are you talking about, my cake required actual skill, your cake just required an edible ink printer.”  Alana waved at the cakes.  Jin and Jiro had turned Alana’s cake into a jigsaw puzzle which no longer bore an obvious resemblance to a penis.</p>
<p>“At least I’m not asking everybody here to eat a– ”</p>
<p>“Wasn’t the whole point of this about naming the pup?” Akane interrupted her cousin before she could finish that sentence.</p>
<p>“Except now they have to choose between Yorkie and Hurrrr,” said Manny, and then he and Tommy fell out laughing together while Hina upbraided them both.</p>
<p>“Enough!”  Keith managed to get his laughter under control and raise his voice, because really, he’d had enough.  “Our son’s name is Kiyoshi Garrett but we’re still calling him Sunny, and that’s the end of it!”</p>
<p>Everybody had on the dumbstruck expressions that tended to be the result of Keith whipping out the voice of authority.  Good.  They better get used to it because Keith aimed to be the kind of mother who got up in the face of any mom-shamers who might try to come for him.</p>
<p>“Three syllables with the ‘ki’ syllable for radiant.” Krolia said with a sniffle.  “Oh Keith, it’s so much like your father’s name, I love it.”</p>
<p>“A good strong name with a nickname that hints at its meaning!”  Alana’s waterworks were also on the verge.  “It’s just like Hunk’s name, it’s perfect!”</p>
<p>Congratulations came fast and felicitous, and the name drama was finally over.  When they heard that Hunk and Keith hadn’t eaten dinner yet, Jin ordered pizza and they proceeded to have a lively family dinner, dessert first, but not before Keith got some pictures of those cakes for posterity’s sake.  Someday Sunny was going to get a kick out of the story about how his grandmothers tried to decide his name with an amateur cake-off.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Your skin is like honey.”  Taryn, the makeup artist, brushed highlighter across Lance’s temples.  “So easy to work with.  It’s always a pleasure to work on a pro.”</p>
<p>“It’s always a pleasure to have a pro work on me,” Lance said happily as he sat in her chair in the studio.  Thankfully his pregnancy glow had finally appeared, blessing him with thicker hair and the triumphant return of his sideburns.  Standing appointments with Antor ensured that these blessings had not also come with a return of unkempt brows.</p>
<p>In the makeup station mirror he could see the white paper backdrop and Taryn’s husband Rowe snapping pictures of another model under diffused lights.  Off to the side were the racks of clothes the models would be posing in, and the art director and fashion designer deciding which models would wear which outfits.  They’d given all the models instructions on how they wanted them to pose (“Shoulders back, chin forward, don’t cross your arms unless we tell you to but if you want to put your hands in the pockets or play with the buttons that’s fine, and don’t forget to smile!”) and the model currently being photographed behind Lance was hitting her marks like – well, like a pro.  Lance was the least experienced model on this shoot, but in spite of his previous daydreaming he wasn’t really here to set the world on fire as the next maternity supermodel.  He was here to make a good impression on people already working in the industry he’d trained for, and so far that seemed to be working out.</p>
<p>Eventually it was Lance’s turn in front of the camera.  The catalog was a summer collection, so Lance was wearing a beach cover-up of navy blue stripes with half-sleeves, pockets and a deep v-neck.  He stepped over onto the white paper backdrop in the comfortable walking sandals that were part of the outfit.  The art director, Deborah Cadmium, walked toward him carrying a pair of plastic sunglasses with heart-shaped lenses.</p>
<p>“I want you to play with these,” she said as she handed them over to Lance.</p>
<p>“Can I wear them too?” Lance asked.</p>
<p>“If you want, just not the whole time.”</p>
<p>Sweet.  Given a prop, Lance felt freer in front of the snapping camera lens while still keeping in mind the instructions from earlier.</p>
<p>“Nice,” said Rowe.  <em>Snap, snap, snap</em>.  “Let’s see that big smile again, you’re doing great.”</p>
<p>Lance had worried that he might get benched because there were more experienced models on the set.  He was the only male omega among them, but that didn’t mean they needed him for more than a little variety.  Most catalogs catering to young families had a few token shots of male omegas in the pages.  His worries turned out to be baseless, as he took as many turns in front of the camera as any of the other models and wound up changing into so many outfits that he stopped counting after a while.  Apparently the shape of his bump was photogenic.</p>
<p>Finally the shoot wrapped up and he was able to put on his own clothes and head for the door, making sure to thank everybody he’d worked with as he went.  He remembered once joking with Shiro about charging him a hundred dollars an hour for his services, in a lifetime that felt long ago although in actuality it was not even two full years prior.  Against all odds he’d just made that salary, and his feet were telling him that he’d better spend some of that paycheck on some paraffin wax if he knew what was good for them.  He emerged from the grand old building on Broadway intending to call Kai and ask for a pickup, thinking maybe he’d wait in the bookstore on the bottom floor, when who should he find waiting for him on the sidewalk but Kuro and Rachel.  Ren had made good on her promise to get them an appointment at a family run bridal salon on the Lower East Side.</p>
<p>“Come with us!” Kuro said.</p>
<p>“Won’t I be clashing with your joy?”</p>
<p>“No, you’ll be moral support,” Rachel insisted.  “Ren knows the owners, I need somebody who will take my side if we have a difference of opinion.”</p>
<p>Lance agreed and Rachel went to the parking garage to bring her car around.  Then they picked up Kiere from Lang, who entertained them with the romantic exploits of her longtime boyfriend Aldar during the short car ride.  His latest escapade was leaving small crystals and tumbled stones around for Kiere to find.  In her backpack, on her windowsills, in her car’s coin holder, she’d been finding them everywhere.  She was collecting the little courting gifts in a glass jar as she continued trying to figure out how he was doing it without her noticing.</p>
<p>They parked in a municipal garage and walked a block over to the little salon, called Vyrketh’s, tucked in between a wholesale accessories store and an alterations shop.  The shop’s front window displayed dress forms showcasing wedding dresses and bridesmaid’s gowns in the Pantone colors of Brilliant White and Grape Compote.  They trooped inside of a shoebox shaped store with hardwood floors covered in hand-knotted carpets, and track lighting highlighting the racks of fine gowns hugging each exposed brick wall.  The wedding dresses were arranged towards the front of the store, nearest the large gilt-framed mirrors and the carved wood reception desk.  The bridesmaids dresses were a splotch of color near the back of the shop, in front of a large set of curtains hiding the dressing rooms just beyond them.</p>
<p>Ren was already back there talking to their consultant, a young male omega with long auburn hair who introduced himself as “Lord Vyrketh the Eighth,” before laughingly explaining that Lord was his given name, not a title.  The little anecdote had the feel of one well-trammeled, and possibly perpetuated due to its value as an icebreaker.  His mother, Lord Vyrketh the Seventh, would have been their consultant if he hadn’t fallen ill, so it fell to the Eighth to keep their appointment and he sincerely hoped that they found his services satisfactory.  He seemed genuinely delighted to discover he would be dressing another male omega, and Ren seemed genuinely surprised, so this must be the first she was finding out about the little bridesmaid switcheroo.  Lance had an intuition that the real reason why he’d been brought along on this errand was not to cast a deciding vote but to buffer her potential reaction.</p>
<p>V8 – Lance was gonna try real hard not to call him that out loud, but it wasn’t gonna be easy – turned them loose in the bridesmaid gown racks to pick out gowns for Kuro and Kiere to try on.  Rachel’s colors were liseran purple and pale peach for the ceremony and red and gold for the reception, so V8 had already pulled a selection of gowns in complementary colors and placed them in front.  None in any bright shades of red, of course.  That was reserved for the bride’s grand entrance to the reception.  However, the first round of try-ons was picked by everyone present with the hopes that the bride could winnow down from that selection, because if not she and Ren would be going back through the racks again and they could be there for a while.</p>
<p>Rachel was seated between Ren and Lance on a padded bench in front of a large mirror while V8 went back to the dressing rooms to help Kuro and Kiere get changed.  The two emerged from behind the curtain wearing Lance’s pick first: sparkly copper-gold jumpsuits.  Rachel shot Lance a look, and okay, maybe sequins were not the greatest idea for a daytime wedding but they were so pretty.  Kuro seemed to be having fun watching the wide legs glint in the mirror as he swung around like a disco diva.  Kiere posed with a grin.  “Pockets,” she said.</p>
<p>“No,” said Ren.</p>
<p>So back to the dressing rooms they went for another try-on.  Lance shrugged.  He’d intentionally gone a little outré with his pick, hoping to break down any potential resistance before they finally got around to Rachel’s choices.  Next up was Kiere’s pick, a peach one-shoulder gown with pleats and gathers around a cummerbund waistline.  Kiere was a tall, lean woman with great arms, so the gown looked fabulous on her.  On Kuro, the gathers and cummerbund were unfortunately calling more attention to his dance-honed booty than was probably appropriate for a church wedding.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid not,” said Ren, and Rachel agreed.</p>
<p>Back to the dressing rooms they went.  Kiere kept up her positive attitude, Rachel chose well when she decided to befriend her.  When they came back out again, they were in Kuro’s pick: a muted pink column gown with a cape train.  Both of them looked stunning in it.</p>
<p>“I do love that silhouette,” Ren sighed, “but only one person should be wearing a train while walking down the aisle.”</p>
<p>They all agreed that she was right.  Back they went.  This time they came out in Ren’s pick: magenta midi length tank gowns with big bows tying the halter necklines closed.  From the front they looked like they were wearing luxury pillowcases.  From the back, OMG those bows.</p>
<p>“It looked better in my mind,” Ren admitted.</p>
<p>So they returned to the dressing rooms, hopefully for the last time.  Lance waited with abated breath, because this was Rachel’s pick.  Out they finally came in floor-skimming cold-shoulder gowns with a bateau neckline and ruffly edges around the exposed arms.  The silhouette was flowy and the color was a pale lilac that looked good on both of them.  It was way softer than anything Lance would have picked for himself, but it was undeniably Rachel’s taste.</p>
<p>“That is lovely,” Ren said.  “Rachel my dear, I believe you’ve found it.  What say all of you?”</p>
<p>If Ren and Rachel agreed on it, then it had to be a winner, and the others jumped in to praise the choice accordingly.  Honestly though, Kuro and Kiere probably would have looked great in anything, they were both extremely good-looking people.  They proceeded to the next order of business which was for V8 to get Kuro’s and Kiere’s measurements.  They would need to return to the salon for final alterations once the gown order came in, but they were basically done with their errand, or so Lance thought, until Ren said, “This one will require a maternity gown in a complementary color so that it’s clear in the photographs that he is an honored member of the bride’s family.”</p>
<p>V8 looked tickled pink at the prospect of making another sale, especially for yet another male omega, but Lance felt the need to point out something that everybody subliminally knew but nobody had really talked about yet.  “My due date is the same month as the wedding.”</p>
<p>Ren patted his shoulder.  “It can take up to two months for your uterus to shrink back to its original size, my dear.”</p>
<p>Why did Dorma and Lisa keep on not telling him these things?!</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith and Hunk sat side by side in a brightly lit classroom at the hospital.  They’d just completed a tour of the maternity facilities and signed up for several childbirth classes, and now they were taking the first one in the series: infant safety.  They watched wide-eyed as their instructor demonstrated how important it was to make sure that a car seat was installed correctly and tightly.</p>
<p>“There’s like a million buckles,” Keith whispered.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry babe,” Hunk replied.  “I was in my high school’s robotics club.  We can do this.”</p>
<p>Keith hoped so.  Sunny’s little body was going to be counting on them getting it right.  The crash test dummy video had been terrifying.</p>
<p>One of the other parents raised his hand and the teacher called on him.  “How do I strap one of these things on my jet ski?” the guy asked.</p>
<p>The teacher shook her finger at him.  “You do not.”</p>
<p>Keith was glad beyond the telling of it that it was Hunk who was his partner in this.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“I was fourth kyu before I stopped training in budō, Sensei,” Kuro said to Tetsuya, who nodded and wrote in a little book on his desk.</p>
<p>Lance shifted in the seat beside Kuro trying to get more comfortable.  Tetsuya’s office chairs were past their prime.  He had a squashy old couch in the entry room which was pretty comfortable, but here in his office he just had ancient task chairs with flattened foam in the seats.  Lance and Kuro were both wearing workout clothes bearing the school’s logo – Kuro because Tetsuya-sensei was not sure yet what belt to assign him, and Lance because he couldn’t fit into his gi anymore.</p>
<p>“Tell me, Kuro, have you ever worked with any type of pole weapon before?”</p>
<p>“I trained briefly in naginatajutsu before Haha decided that I should focus on the entertaining arts instead of martial arts.”</p>
<p>“All right then.”  Tetsuya looked back up with a smile.  “Today we will begin working with the bō.  I will show you the proper holds, and we shall proceed through a few basic stances and perhaps some blocks, time permitting.  That way Lance may have a classmate for this lesson, and we might get a better feel for what level kumite class you can join as well.  How does that suit you?”</p>
<p>Lance was low-key excited.  He had been looking forward to trying this.  Kuro looked bright-eyed about it too as Tetsuya led them out into the studio and over to a mat where they could conduct the lesson without being underfoot of the class currently practicing kihon drills on the largest mat.</p>
<p>“We will begin using six foot graphite practice bō,” said Tetsuya.  “If you choose to continue, I would recommend seeking out an ultralight bō made of lotus wood.  Look for something slightly shorter than you are, at least to start.”</p>
<p>Tetsuya showed them how to hold the staff at thirds with the dominant palm up and the non-dominant palm down to facilitate control of the staff, and how to narrow that hold to swing the staff into strikes and widen the hold for blocks.  Once he was confident that they both had that under control, he proceeded to show them stances, all of which Lance recognized from the katas he’d already learned, but in this case he was holding a six foot long pole in his hands.  Much to his surprise, it was helping him keep his balance, like a tightrope walker.  He risked a glance to the side and found Kuro going through the stances in enviably fluid motion.  They had enough time left to learn some mid-section blocks before Tetsuya called an end to the lesson and they bowed to thank him.</p>
<p>“Kuro, if you wish to attempt it, I believe that you would do well continuing at the level of fourth kyu.”  Tetsuya smiled at Kuro’s eager nod.  “Very good.  I would also be happy to continue training you both with the bō if either of you are interested.”</p>
<p>Both pupils answered in the affirmative.  Lance had the bug, no way he was quitting now.  Shiro was predictably less enthusiastic about it in the car on the way home.</p>
<p>“Honey, I thought you wanted to take Pilates with me?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I still do,” Lance said, one eye on Kuro who was in the front seat smirking just like the little brother he was as he eavesdropped on this little domestic interlude.  “Don’t think you’re getting out of that one just because I also want to practice the bō.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shinji walked beside Tatsuo under gently swaying branches alive with sakura, pale pink against a deep blue sky.  Over their shoulders loomed the impressive bulk of Matsumoto Castle, and beyond it the snowy crest of the Japanese Alps.  Shinji knew that Tatsuo customarily observed hanami with Kuro in Koboyama Park, except for the previous year when they’d gone to Shiba Park in Tokyo, but he seemed content to walk here on the castle grounds and feed the swans and the nishikigoi in the moat.  Later, when the sun went down, the castle would light up with spotlights, giving the ancient landmark an aspect of a mystical castle on another world.  Shinji and Tatsuo would have returned to the Shirogane estate by then, taking an evening meal under the watchful eyes of the loyal chaperones Izu and Nagato.</p>
<p>There was much to be discussed between them, and such discussion would no doubt happen over that meal.  Getting married would be a somewhat simple, if time-consuming matter of filing the correct registration forms at city hall so as to be recognized as a family in the koseki; a different kind of family than they had been known as up until now.  Kuro already knew that they were seeing each other and had tacitly given his approval.  If they chose to have their marriage recognized by a priest, that was a matter which could be put on hold for a while.  But there were more questions with less easy answers than the issue of a ceremony.</p>
<p>Whose last name would they choose?  The Ise side of Shinji’s family was illustrious in its own right, but if they took that name, then Tatsuo would cease to share a family name with Kuro.  Oh, to have access to a plan such as he’d recently learned that Kuro and his suitor Pidge had, which was to register as Shiroganes in Nippon and Holts in California.  Clever, clever children they were to have come up with that plan, and bold, though perhaps naive in assuming that a closed door meant that nobody was listening.  Shinji looked forward to attending their wedding ceremonies on both sides of the Pacific in approximately four years’ time.  But such a plan would not work for Shinji and Tatsuo.  They would have to choose one name.</p>
<p>Where would they live?  Tatsuo had been right to raise this concern.  They both enjoyed the peace afforded by the Shirogane estate, but Shinji’s career revolved around city life.  He glanced aside to Tatsuo again, who was casting his eyes under a canopy of waving petals for a spot to lay out their picnic lunch.  How could he ask Tatsuo to give up such idyllic serenity?</p>
<p>“Your thoughts are very loud, Shinji-san.”</p>
<p>So Tatsuo had also been observing him in turn.  He was much better at doing so unnoticed.  Together, they slowed to a stop in a small clearing with a good view of the castle.</p>
<p>“My apologies, Tatsuo-san.  I did not mean to disturb your tranquility.”</p>
<p>“I am always happy to be disturbed by you, Shinji-san.”  Tatsuo smiled as he reached for the blanket that Shinji was carrying over his arm.  “This is a good spot to reflect, I think.”</p>
<p>Shinji agreed, and they spread out the blanket to open the bento boxes which Tatsuo had made for them before they left the villa.  They would reflect as they enjoyed the food and the views.  Later, there would be time and privacy to talk about everything they were both thinking.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>For a day named after the sun, it was quite a cloudy afternoon in Sakura Park.  Kuro and Lance had been picked up by Kiere to meet up with Rachel, Daniel, Omnia and her sweetheart Antor to taste cakes.  Antor lived near this park and had mentioned that the cherry blossoms were blooming, and Kuro had expressed his enthusiasm for seeing this before he could corral his manners, so it was decided that the gazebo would be a fine place to convene and taste the precut samples which Rachel and Omnia had gone to retrieve.  All of the bakeries which Rachel was interested in patronizing were near Omnia’s neighborhood, so they went together on that errand before coming to the park.  It was not required for Rachel to have a wedding cake at the banquet that would take place after her wedding, but she had decided that she wanted to have one, and that she wanted to include Lance and Omnia along with her bridal party in helping her to choose which one.</p>
<p>The Yoshino Sakura trees were in first bloom, flowers so pale a pink they were nearly white fluttering from branches yet to leaf out.  This varietal was a hybrid and a clone, genetically the same tree as the first hybrid to be cultivated back in Nippon.  So far from its origination point, yet it grew as tenaciously in this urban park laid out in straight lines and wide curves as it did along the hilly paths of Koboyama Park high above Matsumoto.  Rising majestically above the comparatively humble city park was the Gothic tower of Riverside Church, from which carillon bells rang out hymns in counterpoint to the songs of birds flitting among the trees.  Walking down a concrete path, Kuro, Lance and Kiere quickly came in sight of the gazebo, where Rachel looked up from helping Omnia unload little plastic cups and boxes out of what looked like a bread box onto a blanket laid out beside the steps.</p>
<p>Rachel waved and Lance waved back as they continued their approach.  As they drew closer, they could see Daniel sitting on the steps behind Rachel talking to a man dressed like a fashionista in Shibuya.  Kuro guessed this man must be Antor, and was proven correct when they reached the gazebo and introductions were made.  Antor seemed like a friendly sort of man.  The group sat on their claimed corner of the gazebo steps as Rachel pointed out different slices of cake in differently shaped plastic takeout boxes.</p>
<p>“Baby, you know we can’t do tres leches cake for the wedding,” Daniel said when she began apportioning out a very wet looking slice of white cake.  “Most of my family are lactose intolerant.”</p>
<p>“I know that.”  Rachel had on a mischievous little smile.  “I just wanted to get some tres leches cake for us today.”</p>
<p>“You are an awesome sister,” Lance declared as he accepted his little piece on a tiny paper plate.</p>
<p>“An awesome friend,” Kiere added.</p>
<p>Tasting the custardy rich nibble of cake, Kuro could only agree.  Even if cream was as bad for him as Haha liked to claim, this was worth a potential tummy ache.  They also tasted a guava-filled cake which was more tart than the cake which had been served at Lance and Ani’s wedding, a very sweet strawberry-filled cake, a pineapple-filled cake that balanced sweet and tart flavors just right, a rich chocolate cake, a dense carrot cake, a light confetti cake, and a dulce de leche cake which Daniel also struck down due to the extravagant dairy content, but heavens was it delicious.  Kuro wasn’t sure how much help he was going to be in deciding which of the cakes should be chosen for the wedding.</p>
<p>“How many people are you going to need to serve?” asked Omnia.  She sat with Antor’s arm draped over her shoulders.  Her pregnant belly was not yet as pronounced as Lance’s was.  Someone would have to be looking for it in order to notice it.</p>
<p>Rachel and Daniel exchanged a look.  “We invited three hundred,” Rachel said, “but we haven’t gotten an RSVP from all of them yet.”</p>
<p>“For most parties you should bargain on around twenty percent of a guest list not showing,” said Omnia.  “That means you need to make sure you’ve got enough cake to feed at least two hundred and thirty people.  A larger sized three tier cake should cover that.”</p>
<p>“Not all of these guests are going to want to eat cake,” Daniel put in.  “But of the ones that do, I think it will go over better if we pick from the fruit flavors.”</p>
<p>They all agreed that the pineapple was the best bet.  Cake decision made, they all relaxed and chatted on the steps of the gazebo under gently ruffling sakura blossoms.  It was quite a different flower viewing outing than Kuro had been accustomed to, but he decided that it had its own charms.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Breathe in... breathe out...”</p>
<p>Keith followed the gentle movements of the instructor under the dappled shade of trees in a city park not very far from the house.  It wasn’t the larger park where he and Pidge took the dogs.  He and Matt had come to this park because this was the one where the Tai Chi school Matt belonged to sent an instructor once a week for an outdoor beginner’s class.  After a quick Q&amp;A with the instructor during which Keith divulged that he wasn’t a complete stranger to martial arts (he’d grown up training in Aikido) the instructor, a young red-haired beta named Larmina whom he was sure he’d seen around somewhere before, decided that he should be fine joining the class.  She had a lot of elderly students in this class, so she avoided the forms that required kicks or deep lunges anyway.</p>
<p>“Let your arms flow up... and down...”</p>
<p>Matt said Tai Chi had helped him keep his balance both literally and figuratively while he was carrying Banon, but what really sold Keith on trying it out was that the first class was free.</p>
<p>“Arms out on the inhale... arms in on the exhale, like you’re embracing a tree.”</p>
<p>Keith couldn’t help but smile as his mind instantly went to imagine embracing his tree tall mate.  He might pay the membership dues to keep hanging out in this class with Matt for a while.  The monthly dues weren’t expensive at all, and this was honestly kind of nice.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Mizuki dropped in unexpectedly and Tatsuo wished to drop everything to prepare chaji in Ginga-tei, a proof of how much Mizuki still meant to him despite the years of delicately maintained distance.  Mizuki insisted that chakai was perfectly acceptable and would not hear of Tatsuo putting himself out over a surprise visit.  Tatsuo arranged a compromise, serving a light meal in the shoin room before bidding Mizuki and Shinji wait in the roji garden while he prepared the materials for chadō in Ginga-tei.</p>
<p>Shinji stood beside Mizuki looking serenely out at the grounds bounding the property.  The many sazanka shrubs were full with leaves like verdant silk, but no flowers at this time of the year.  The tsutsuji shrubs were in deep pink bloom, contrasting slightly with the more delicate pink of a flowering wild sakura tree and the variegated pinks of the young hanamomo that Ryu had planted after he married Tatsuo.  If he were to turn his head to look over his shoulder, Shinji could probably spot sunlight reflecting off the window of the tatami room that was supposed to be his guest room, but which he hadn’t actually been sleeping in very much.  The seclusion of the villa and Tatsuo’s status as a widow afforded some privacy, but it had probably only been a matter of time before someone from town came out to see how the Widow Shirogane was getting along with his houseguest.</p>
<p>“I must confess, I always thought it would be you, Ise-san.”  Mizuki stood tall and elegantly straight, his long hair unspooling down his back like undyed ramie.  Time had finally touched him in some way, though his classically arranged features remained as unlined as ever.</p>
<p>“I thought it would be me as well, Mizuki-san,” Shinji admitted.  “I was as astonished as you when it was not.”</p>
<p>“May I then assume that your time has now arrived?”</p>
<p>Shinji turned to face Mizuki more fully.  “I assure you, it is my intention to make Tatsuo-san happy.”</p>
<p>Mizuki nodded.  “I am glad to hear this from you.”</p>
<p>“It would also make him happy to see you more often, Mizuki-san.”  He’d long suspected that Ryu may have played a role in discouraging continued socializing between the two.  He had confided in Shinji once that he’d blamed himself for not guarding Lisa more closely, feeling certain the photographer's suggestion would never have been acted upon if he'd been paying more close attention to her that day instead of to the magazine interviewer.  It would have been in character for him to then overcompensate by guarding Tatsuo jealously.</p>
<p>Mizuki’s posture relaxed some of its tension.  “I am glad to hear this from you as well.”</p>
<p>They stood at their ease among the flowers enjoying the fragrant breeze and waiting for Tatsuo to call them in for tea.  Shinji would never wish to take Tatsuo far away from his mentor for good, not now that there was a chance of rapprochement.  He was beginning to wonder if maybe there was a way he wouldn’t have to.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The group exercise room at the gym had a nice view of surrounding high rises through large windows that were only partially shaded to reduce glare on the mirrors.  Lance finally got to bust out his new workout togs, and he had to say, the belly band on the leggings was really comfortable.  Maybe he could just go everywhere in these leggings.  Maybe Shiro could also accompany him everywhere in those drawstring pants and that tank top he had on, because yum.</p>
<p>Lance wasn’t the only mami indulging in an eyeful of his papi, either.  Such was the price Lance paid for being married to a mega-hot man and ogling him in a semi-public place.  It was a price he would pay willingly every time Shiro willingly put on that outfit.</p>
<p>“Step to the side to place your feet in a wide V position.”  Their instructor, a buff blond alpha named Cliff, walked around adjusting stances, his eucalyptus scent somehow soothing anxious alphas while he assisted their omegas.  It was easy to see why the guy’s prenatal Pilates classes were all waitlisted.  “Looking good everyone.”  Cliff returned to his own mat at the front of the class.  “On the inhale through the nose we’re going to bend our knees as we raise our arms, making sure not to overextend.  On the exhale through the mouth we’re going to bring ourselves back up, pushing through the heels as our arms fall back to our sides.  I’ll go first so you can see how that goes, then you can join me on the second round.”</p>
<p>On the second round, Lance was watching Shiro in the mirror instead of the instructor.  If he could just get Shiro to massage his calves later while wearing those clothes, his day would be perfecto.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The reception area of the building that would eventually become the bricks and mortar storefront of the Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters had been repainted from beige and navy blue to golden yellow and burgundy.  The low pile carpet had been taken up and replaced with LVT, and the harsh overhead utility lights replaced with softer recessed lighting.  The plan was to install bakery display cases and a permanent counter with a saloon door blocking the back rooms of the building off from anyone but authorized personnel.  Those furnishing were not yet in the front room.  Instead, they’d set up the folding tables and heavy duty camp chairs that the moms had been using in their booth at the farmers markets, along with Keith’s old folding screen which they’d rescued from the garage.</p>
<p>They’d received the go-ahead that they could begin interviewing potential candidates to apprentice at the store, and they’d received a good deal more interest from their ad than they’d expected.  After going through the contact lists to weed out candidates who were disqualified according to the terms Omega Services wouldn’t budge on, they still had quite a roster to sort through.  That’s where Keith came in.  He knew the types of omegas who were going to walk through those doors, so he was going to be the first interviewer, to get a read on their character.  If they got through him then they’d get to interview with the moms to gauge their vocational aptitude.  </p>
<p>As it turned out though, he also knew a lot of the actual omegas by name.  “Hey Lorn, how’s it going?”</p>
<p>Lorn’s smile looked a little forlorn and Keith wondered if he’d had to turn that hard corner so many of them had to.  Last he’d seen him, he’d been barely managing to avoid it by filling his waking hours with as many odd jobs as he could find, both over and under the table.  His big brown peepers did have the strained look of lost sleep.</p>
<p>“I really can’t complain,” he said, which was typical of him.  “I met the most wonderful alpha!  But we can’t get married yet.  She lives in a studio apartment with an occupancy limit of one and she’s still got a lot of time left on her lease.  Oh, congrats by the way.”  He nodded toward Keith’s bump.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Keith smiled back, confused.  There had to be something else going on, something Lorn wasn’t saying.  Leases could be gotten out of.  Coran’s apartment was being sublet to a friend of his with his landlord’s full blessings.  Lorn did seem to have a lot on his mind.  He’d always had one of those faces that was easy to read.  “So, how did you become interested in Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters?”</p>
<p>“Well, my hours got cut at Short Shorts a little while back, and the crowds get pretty thin in front of Grauman’s in the wintertime...”</p>
<p>Lorn made part of his living cosplaying for tourists.  Keith had tried it and discovered he didn’t have the patience to be used like a human prop unless there was a lot more money involved than what the buskers were making.</p>
<p>“...so I’ve been working as a receptionist at Seraphic Matchmaking Services.”</p>
<p>Rolo’s business venture.  Keith had gotten wind of it.  More power to him as long as he kept it on the level.</p>
<p>“But I don’t think I’ll be able to work there much longer,” Lorn went on.  “Rolo’s partner doesn’t seem to like me very much.”</p>
<p>That was a tough break.  Keith could vouch for Lorn’s sweet temperament and solid work ethic all day and night and he still probably wouldn’t make it past the moms with that story which made it clear that he was in love, just not with baking.  The moms had been very clear that they wanted to apprentice people who had a love for making food, even if they had little experience at it.  Given the sheer size of the candidate list it seemed likely that their non-negotiable would be honored.  It was kind of a shame, because Lorn might not be passionate about food prep but he was such a hard worker, he– </p>
<p>Keith was struck by a sudden realization.  “I think I know a job that would suit you way better than this one.  How do you feel about wearing a hotel uniform?”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance was glad he’d gotten some of Shiro’s undivided attention during and after Pilates class the other day, because tonight he’d stayed late at the office working on some sort of favor for Shinji.  Therefore Lance and Kuro had decided to take their computers into the nursery to play Monsters &amp; Mana.  A large area rug had just been added to the room, in soft wool with a faded pattern of roses on it, and it was cozy to sit on.  Atlas liked it too, plopping his fluffy body down sideways between the two omegas and stretching out his legs.  Haruka might have something to say about cat hair on the nursery rug, but that could wait until later.</p>
<p>“Prince Heith, huh?”  Lance grinned.  “How do you know the broodling won’t be a princess?”</p>
<p><em>“If that happens then the broodling will be Princess Heith,”</em> was Thunderstorm’s answer.  The team had been granted temporary refuge in a monastery run by the order from whom Block had learned the healing arts, and then their Lore Master had to bow out at the last minute to go attend a meeting with her study group.  Consequently the members of the party who were still present and accounted for were hanging around in the monastery’s digital courtyard shooting the shit instead of adventuring.  <em>“What about you, picked out any good names for those kittens yet?”</em></p>
<p>“I was thinking I’d name them after some of the Paladin’s greatest hits.”</p>
<p>Shiro had picked some names for his Paladin that deserved to never be forgotten.  He’d gone through an incredible number of proper names from several different languages and all of the Name Game variations of his own name, and had commenced to naming the Paladin after random phrases that could be forced to rhyme with Shiro.  Right now he was on Giv’a’cheero, a name which would survive for another day on account of they were safely tucked in the monastery and also Shiro’s Paladin wasn’t around at the moment to get killed by misadventure.</p>
<p>“I was fond of Ichiro,” Kuro admitted.</p>
<p><em>“I liked Subzero,”</em> said Thunderstorm.</p>
<p><em>“Are we naming kittens after Shiro’s Paladins?”</em>  Block returned from wherever he’d gone to arrange their sleeping quarters (which Lance was pretty sure was just a cover for Hunk getting up to make Keith a snack).  <em>“Don’t sleep on Shed’a’tearo.”</em></p>
<p><em>“You can’t leave out Superhero,”</em> said Peacemaker.</p>
<p><em>“Are you lot only choosing from the silly ones?”</em>  Valayun had joined them once Mariel had gone down for a nap.  Ada was also supposedly with them, but Lance suspected that Shay had actually fallen asleep too.  <em>“Because if not, I vote for Casimiro.  I’ve always liked that name.”</em></p>
<p>“All of your votes are recorded,” Lance decided.  “I’ll save the last one for myself.”</p>
<p>There was no way he was going to let anybody forget Gyro.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro came home feeling tired in the pleasant way that good deeds could do.  He’d just spent hours on a conference call speaking Nihongo exclusively for longer at a stretch than he had in years, helping Shinji and Tatsuo broker the sale of a parcel of land within the Shirogane estate.  As Ryu’s widow, Tatsuo owned that spot of land, but as the head of house, Shiro still had a say in what happened to it, so they’d required his intercession.  Also, Shinji had needed his help covering the up front fees in what basically amounted to an inter-family land transfer.  Shinji wanted to build a new structure in the fallow field adjacent to the villa, and he wanted Shiro as an investor in it.  As a non-citizen Shiro was limited as to the percentage he could invest, despite his connection to that land; but he knew Shinji’s drive and he knew that small percentage would eventually be well rewarded.</p>
<p>Atlas peeked his cream point face out of the bedroom door as Shiro walked toward it, being careful not to step on the squeaky board.  He could already see through the door, which Lance had left cracked open for him, that the lights had been turned down.  Quietly he disrobed and slid into bed beside his mate, who was curled around the body pillow.  Lance stirred and turned his face for a kiss when Shiro cuddled up behind him.  Shiro heard the little thump of Atlas jumping up on the foot of the bed and pretended he didn’t notice the cat padding toward the center when he was supposed to stay on the edges to avoid getting rolled over on by humans.  Atlas would probably be warming the small of Shiro’s back by morning.</p>
<p>“Glad you’re home,” Lance mumbled sleepily.</p>
<p>“So am I.”  Shiro indulged in a quick scenting of his blanket-warm neck.  “Did you guys get up to anything exciting while I was gone?”  A Monsters &amp; Mana session had been part of the evening’s original plan.</p>
<p>Shiro felt Lance’s smirk through the bond sense more than he saw it in the dark bedroom.  “We picked out some names for our offspring.”</p>
<p>Shiro’s stomach dropped.  “Honey we can’t let Pidge have a vote in our pup’s name, you don’t understand the amount of mischief– it’s not funny!”</p>
<p>Lance chuckled.  “We picked names for Pike’s kittens.  Pidge wasn’t even there.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”  Well, it could be worse.  Shiro had learned that the hidden advantage of his character dying a lot was the ability to outlive a terribly chosen name.  He now suspected some of those names were going to come back to haunt him, but this was still far preferable to letting an imp like Pidge anywhere near their daughter’s birth certificate.</p>
<p>Lance shifted in Shiro’s hold, his mood through the bond sense shifting to something more contemplative.  “Was there a name you wanted to give her?  Maybe after your mother, or your grandmother?”</p>
<p>“My grandmother would not have encouraged becoming a direct namesake,” Shiro said, kissing Lance’s shoulder.  “Passing down kanji symbols as part of the personal name was more customary in her family.  My mother has the kanji for jasmine in her name, same as my grandmother, who was given it in honor of her grandmother.  But passing down an entire name from one person to another is usually only done with stage names in Nippon these days.  There’s a strong belief that every born child has a right to live up to their own name, and some persistent superstitions have grown up around that idea.”  He paused a moment to think about the possibility, though.  A little Julia Shirogane growing in Lance’s belly.  Or a Lisa.  “My mother, on the other hand, had an English father and upbringing.  I don’t think she would have minded.”  Shiro breathed in Lance’s sweet pregnant scent, so strong near his primary scent glands.  “What about you?  Any special family names?”</p>
<p>“Nobody’s come right out and said so, but everybody’s been saving Mamá’s name for Rachel’s first girl,” Lance said with a soft feeling coming back through the bond sense.  “She’s sentimental like that.”</p>
<p>That sounded like Rachel to Shiro.  He wondered if Ren would have any objections, but he figured since Vibiana was named after a saint the name would probably pass muster regardless.</p>
<p>“Luis already used Mima’s first name,” Lance said.  “If we have too many little Nadias running around it could get confusing.”</p>
<p>Shiro put his arms around Lance to give him a little squeeze and encountered the body pillow.  “I can see how that could happen.”</p>
<p>“I also kind of wanted to remember my father somehow.  I might be the only person who ever thinks of passing down his name.”</p>
<p>Shiro hugged Lance to him, no longer mindful of the pillow.  Male omega pregnancy outcomes were drastically improved in the 21st Century, but complications impeding further pregnancies were still distressingly common.  The stereotype of the male omega’s beloved only child was a staple of melodramas for a reason, and male omegas across most of the world’s cultures tended to be exempted from societal pressure to give their children siblings.  Knowing Lance, he would still want to try if the option remained available.  Shiro had no intention of pushing it on him.</p>
<p>“Charles sounds too stern for this pup though,” Lance said.  “Even if she grows up to be an alpha.  She turns somersaults in there, Shiro.  Also, I really like the idea of incorporating the kanji for jasmine, I’d like to keep that tradition going.”</p>
<p>Shiro mentally went over all the variants and diminutives he’d happened across for Charles while looking for suitable names for his Paladin.  One of them tumbled off the tongue in a particularly appealing way.  “What do you think about Carolína?”</p>
<p>Lance half-turned in Shiro’s arms.  “I love that.  You don’t think she’ll be mad when teachers pronounce it like the state on the first day of school and she has to correct them?”</p>
<p>“If she’s half as spirited as you are then she’ll enjoy the challenge.”  Shiro kissed Lance’s cheek so prettily presented to him.  “And her name can be spelled with the kanji for jasmine.”</p>
<p>“Then it’s just right.”  Lance purred and leaned into another scenting.  “We can stop calling her Esther now.”</p>
<p>“Honey,” Shiro cuddled him as close as the pillow would let him, “you were the only one who ever called her Esther.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith and Hunk stood together in the car seat section of the big box store they’d chosen for their registry, tablet in hand.  This was the last item to add, and they’d been putting it off for weeks.  Keith had a Boppy pillow in his arms.  Not for the registry, that thing was going home with him pronto.  They’d decided they were going to get an infant car seat and save the convertible seat purchase for when Sunny was older.  Now they just had to pick which one of the two infant car seats they’d narrowed it down to.</p>
<p>“It’s so hard to choose,” Hunk said.  “On the one hand you have Cozi-Dozi infant support.  On the other, you have Click Connect technology.”</p>
<p>When choosing what car seat brands to consider they’d gone the totally scientific route of asking the people they knew who’d had babies.  Matt was sold on his Maxi-Cosi Mico Max, saying it was easy to clean, and to be fair, his kid seemed to spit up a lot, so he probably knew what he was talking about.  Hina swore by Graco SnugRide, saying it was easy to install, which would have been the winning description if not for the fact that her youngest had already outgrown her booster seat, so how current was that information really?  Also, what was up with those names?  How many capital letters did one product really need?</p>
<p>“Let’s just put both of them on the registry,” Keith decided.  “I mean, we have two cars, and there’s a chance nobody will pick either one anyway.”  They were both big ticket items added at the last minute, and the only ones he could see going that big that fast were the moms.  Or maybe Lance and Shiro.</p>
<p>“Good point,” Hunk agreed.  “And if nobody picks one we’ll still have a couple months to decide.”</p>
<p>Procrastination accomplished, they bought the Boppy pillow and got into the Subaru to go meet the moms for lunch.  It was supposed to be so that they could compare notes on the omegas they’d recently interviewed, but Keith suspected it was more of an excuse to run their baby shower plans past him and Hunk one last time.  Barring anymore inappropriate name demands, there was zero chance that he or Hunk were going to object to anything they had planned.  Except, no diaper games.  Also, no themed entertainers.  Unless it was just Akane being a goof in one of her stunt costumes, otherwise Keith wasn’t into it.</p>
<p>“Babe,” Keith said as he reclined his second row seat, “when we take Sunny to Disneyland, let’s don’t go on the Small World ride.”</p>
<p>Hunk paused in putting on his seatbelt to look over his shoulder.  “Aw, why not?”</p>
<p>Before Keith could answer, he felt a <em>pop</em> inside his abdomen that had his eyes opening wider.  Hunk was instantly out of the front seat and kneeling beside him halfway through the rear passenger door.</p>
<p>Keith was quick to reassure him, “I think Sunny kicked me.”</p>
<p>Hunk’s big warm hand settled over Keith’s belly.  “Are you sure?”</p>
<p>“I think so.”  Keith had gotten used to the butterfly wings sensation of Sunny moving around, and the rhythmic twitching when he got the occasional hiccups, but this was different.  It was more solid somehow.  <em>Pop!</em>  “There, he did it again!”</p>
<p>“I felt that too.”  Hunk grinned as they sat together in an overly warm parking lot waiting for Sunny to kick some more.</p>
<p>Keith smiled at another kick.  They had all the small world they needed right there.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance sat in his office looking over the pieces of his nursing bra project as his belly tumbled with the now familiar sensation of Carolína using his uterus as her own personal dance studio.  He had all of the bra pieces cut to the specifications he’d decided on, and ready to reassemble.  He’d set the original lace panels aside entirely, cutting new panels out of scraps of silk organza he’d wheedled from his mother.  They were sheer pieces left over from the fabric she’d used as interfacing material when she’d made his own wedding frock, left behind in the back of Rachel’s closet.  In exchange for not leaving it as backup material when Mamá arrived with Rachel’s gown to do last minute adjustments, she wanted him to make his sister a blue handkerchief, since the only garters she was wearing down the aisle were going to be strictly functional ones.</p>
<p>Lance was up to the challenge.  In fact, the doily-like lace he’d taken off the nursing bras might come in handy there, taking care of ‘something old’ in the bargain.  Nobody had to know that it had once rested on somebody else’s boobs.  But first he had to finish decorating Keith’s nursing bras.  He’d planned to draw on them with fabric pens but he kept waffling about the design.  He propped up his notepad full of doodles, pondering.  His eyes wandered about the desk space and fell upon a digital card saved to his computer’s desktop.  </p>
<p>He set aside the notepad and tapped the icon, cooing in delight just like he did every time he viewed this, as an animated butterfly swept across the screen offering him butterfly wishes and baby kisses in powdery text made to look like it was falling out of wing dust.  It was Keith’s baby shower invitation, a formality in Lance’s case since he was on travel restrictions, but no less welcome.  He picked up his fabric pen with renewed inspiration.  He knew just what design to use on these bras.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Krolia wanted to host Keith’s baby shower and nobody wanted to take that away from her, the etiquette rulebooks that said immediate family shouldn’t do it could just go flying out the window.  The real issue was that she lived with Akane, and that apartment was tiny.  Hina volunteered her place, but her living room was only marginally bigger than Akane’s and it was farther away besides.  Alana had plenty of room, but if they had the party over there she wouldn’t be able to resist taking on more and more of the hosting duties instead of just being a helper.  She wouldn’t be trying to butt in, but if they were in her house it would just naturally happen, like water flowing downhill.</p>
<p>That was how Gyrgan gallantly offered his bungalow for them to hold the shindig.  The house itself wasn’t huge, but the size of the overall property made it feasible to host close to twenty people for mocktails and hokey games (but no diaper games, Keith had warned his mother and mother-in-law both, there had better be no diaper games so help him).  In addition to his modestly sized living room, Gyrgan had a big back patio with a patch of green lawn extending to a backyard cottage where the party could overflow into.  Krolia had once mentioned how Tommy asked if he could live in the backyard cottage, and Gyrgan had trotted out that old chestnut ‘maybe when you’re older’ probably thinking the kid would forget.  He was in for a surprise because if Keith knew anything about the persistence of adolescent boys, he knew that Tommy was going to be asking Gyrgan about that cottage after every single forthcoming birthday until he turned eighteen or moved into the backyard cottage, whichever came first.</p>
<p>Hunk and Keith were the first to arrive, which was how the moms had planned it.  Gyrgan had a long driveway for people to park in, with balloons bopping from his front porch railing to make the place easier to spot behind the crape myrtle trees crowding his front yard.  Hunk pulled in and parked the Subaru behind Alana’s minivan.  Krolia had ridden over with her, and those two would be the last to leave.  Everybody else would presumably pile in behind the guests of honor.</p>
<p>Tommy answered the door and let them in.  Gyrgan’s house was laid out with the front rooms being the living room and a dining room leading into a kitchen with a breakfast bar.  There was a banner draped across the front of the bar welcoming them to Kiyoshi’s baby shower.  Behind it were the moms and Gyrgan, all three of them dancing and singing along to “You Are The Sunshine Of My Life.”  Krolia skipped (skipped!) out from behind the counter and hugged Keith while singing to him that he was the apple of her eye, and he couldn’t help but laugh and sway along with her.  Alana greeted Hunk similarly while Gyrgan smiled at them in welcome.  Tommy’s face took on the cross-eyed expression of a tweenager trying to contain himself while watching adults being embarrassing.</p>
<p>They had various nonalcoholic versions of the sunrise recipe ready to mix on the bar, so Keith went for a peach sunrise fizz and Hunk took a sweet sunrise.  They’d made crepes with an assortment of filling options, including teriyaki chicken, and they’d made homemade glazed potato chips.</p>
<p>“What glaze did you use,” Hunk asked even as he was popping a chip in his mouth and would shortly find out for himself.</p>
<p>“Marmalade,” Alana said with a wink at Keith while Hunk crunched and made yummy noises.</p>
<p>It was delicious, everybody agreed.  Keith was privately pleased that the moms had taken up that suggestion from him.  Gyrgan’s living room and dining room soon filled with people noshing on the excellent food and sipping sunrise-themed mocktails.  Mostly mocktails.  Gyrgan had a bottle of reposado behind the counter for the few non-driving guests who wanted cocktails.  Hina brought her kids, and those two disappeared with Tommy into his bedroom to play video games.</p>
<p>Once fed, the other guests were ushered out to the back patio where Krolia had set up a hodge podge of tables and chairs the moms used at their booth, and beach furniture from Alana’s garage.  The guests were invited to place their gifts inside the backyard cottage before the first activity got underway.  The moms had gone thrifting and gotten a bunch of plain cotton baby clothes for the guests to decorate.  They had a plastic-covered table with a heliographic art station, complete with foam brushes and various cutouts to create resist patterns on the cloth, as well as gloves and aprons to protect the clothes of the guests.  The artistes had a blast, and when the clothes were all painted they were left on the table under the sun to develop.</p>
<p>After the crafty activity wound down, the guests appetites began to return just in time to guess baby food flavors.  The prize was a gift certificate from the Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters, so the competition was fierce.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna crush this,” Hina promised as she dabbed baby food onto a paper plate like Bob Ross getting ready to paint a happy little tree.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Matt challenged her as he did the same.  Banon had recently tried his first purees, so Matt must have felt good about his chances.  “No baby, this is for Mommy.”  </p>
<p>Banon had reached a pudgy little hand up trying to intercept Matt’s spoon as he went to take his first taste.  With his father’s vibrant green eyes and some of his mother’s personality traits starting to come through, the baby was an effortless attention stealer.  The contest then temporarily devolved into the guests taking turns letting Banon taste test from the unmarked baby food jars.  It wasn’t cheating if he couldn’t tell them what the flavors were, though that didn’t seem to be for lack of him trying.  Eventually though, they had a winner, and it was Farla.</p>
<p>“I don’t know why everything tastes so strong to me lately,” she said, after confirming that it would be okay for her to use the gift certificate in a charity raffle.</p>
<p>Keith and Matt exchanged knowing looks.  Odds were good Keith would get an invitation to her baby shower before the end of the year.  He doubted Farla’s tías would leave out her older friends just because she was now married to a rich dude.  Richie Rich had bowed out of Keith’s baby shower due to some work obligation for which Keith was eternally grateful, but he had no doubt he’d be seeing James at Farla’s baby shower because if there was any alpha out there capable of making Shiro’s overprotective streak look like a mild case of fond attachment by comparison, it was probably Farla’s husband.</p>
<p>The cake was served up, a citrus layer cake with icing decorated to look like a sunshine smiley face on its round top.  The kids appeared like magic to get their slices along with everybody else.  Then the group’s conversation began to take a decidedly less kid-friendly bent, even though kids were still the topic.  Maybe it wasn’t so much a group conversation as a group of people listening in morbid fascination while a subset of their number held forth in conversation.</p>
<p>“I was in labor for fourteen hours with Manny.”  Hina munched cake.  “For Lena it was just six hours.”  She smiled at her daughter through crumbs.  “She was so tiny.”</p>
<p>Lena laughed, shoulders raised in a self-conscious hunch.</p>
<p>“The second child is always faster,” Alana said, nodding.  “Hunk only took four hours.  He was a ten pounder, though, and you were only eight.  One of those four hours was just trying to get his head and shoulders out.”</p>
<p>Hunk had paused with a forkful of cake halfway between his plate and mouth.  “Sorry, Mom.”</p>
<p>Alana patted his shoulder.  “It was worth it, son.”</p>
<p>“I was in ten hours of active labor with Keith,” Krolia said.  “He was really hard to push at first because he was in posterior position and he was small besides, but since he was small it went fast once he finally started crowning.  I didn’t even need an episiotomy.”</p>
<p>“Um.”  Keith swallowed cake in a suddenly dry mouth.  “Thanks Mom.  For you know, having me.”</p>
<p>Krolia beamed at him like she hadn’t just told an unnecessarily specific story about his birth.</p>
<p>“Small babies are harder to move with contractions,” Matt said.  “This one was six pounds, eleven ounces, which still blows my mind because he was late.”  His knee jumped, jogging Banon in place and keeping him too unsteady to make another play for Matt’s cake.  “I kept feeling this urge to push and the OB nurse kept telling me not to because my cervix wasn’t ripe enough yet.  She kept saying ‘wait for the ripening,’ I thought Ryan was gonna lose it.”</p>
<p>“I was born by emergency C-section,” Ina Leifsdottir said, cake plate perched on folded knee, her prim upright pose somewhat at odds with her dreamy expression.  “There I was floating in my amniotic sac when it was suddenly very loud and very cold.  The doctor’s hands felt so odd in those gloves.”</p>
<p>“You remember being born?” Hunk asked.</p>
<p>“Yes.”  Ina blinked.  “Don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Who wants to open presents?” Gyrgan butted in, clapping his hands like he was excited.  Keith had never felt more grateful to the man in the entire time he’d known him.</p>
<p>“Kuro is having all of our kids,” Pidge quipped as Krolia excused herself to duck into the backyard cottage for the first gift.</p>
<p>They’d gone back and forth on whether or not to open gifts during the shower and had decided to play it by ear, which was why the gifts were in the cottage instead of the living room.  Keith had been to Matt’s baby shower and recalled him mentioning that his host Skath had decided to forgo opening gifts during the party due to a personal conviction that the people who loved watching cute little baby things revealed were outnumbered by the people who dreaded having to wait around watching every cute little baby thing being revealed.  It occurred to Keith that the real reason to keep the gift unwrapping bit in the shower party was to keep open the option of interrupting the graphic birth stories before they could get out of hand.  Then it occurred to Keith that the people who loved watching cute little baby things revealed were perfectly capable of figuring that out for themselves and then using that assumption to their advantage.  That was some diabolical shit right there, and Keith could only assume that it hadn’t happened at Matt’s shower because Skath was kind of scary himself.</p>
<p>The first gift was a large box wrapped in paper covered with baby hippos in various cute poses.  Instead of a ribbon, it had a lei and a large safety pin attached to the top.  A glance at the gift tag showed that the moms had gone in on this one together.</p>
<p>“Oh, I have a feeling I know what this is,” Hunk said.</p>
<p>“This is an open lei,” Alana said as she draped the garland of yellow hibiscus around Keith’s shoulders and kissed his cheek.  “It’s open for good luck.  Please don’t wear a closed one while you’re pregnant, as closed is considered an unlucky omen for the umbilical chord.”</p>
<p>“This is a Konstantinato amulet,” Krolia said, attaching the safety pin to the collar of Keith’s t-shirt.  It had a gold coin dangling from it, and a bauble on the closure that looked like an eye.  “It’s a good luck charm for you to wear while you’re carrying Sunny.  Then after he’s born you can use the pin on his diapers.”</p>
<p>Keith accepted the good luck charms with as good grace as he could manage.  After everything they’d done for him, the moms deserved to be humored.  Like Hunk, he also had a warm feeling that he knew what was in the box, and sure enough, the wrapping paper came off to reveal the Graco SnugRide car seat, which they’d gotten together with its travel system stroller.  His thanks was from the bottom of his heart, and he knew Hunk’s was too.  Their mothers had just lifted a major source of stress off of their shoulders, and Keith only realized how much it had actually been bothering him once the stressor was gone.</p>
<p>Next proceeded a parade of adorable little clothes, booties and swaddling blankets, which Hunk obligingly held up over Keith’s tummy because Keith decided he was actually kind of with Skath on the obnoxiously cute aspect of the ritual and he wasn’t going to actively participate in that part.  There were also some practical gifts, like nursing covers, pacifiers, and the diaper bag that they’d asked for.  Matt gave them a wall-eyed plushie called Ewan the Dream Sheep.</p>
<p>“Trust me,” Matt said with wide eyes to rival Ewan’s, “you need that.”</p>
<p>“It lights up and makes soothing noises,” Pidge added, not terribly helpfully as Keith was not sure how a glowing sheep making that face in the crib was supposed to be soothing, but he decided to just take their word for it.  For now anyway.  If the sheep never actually made it into the crib they didn’t need to know.</p>
<p>Pidge got them a gift certificate for California Pizza Kitchen.  “I know this may sound hard to believe, but you’re gonna want to save that for after the birth,” she said.  “And I know that from watching him.”</p>
<p>“Hey,” Matt said in response to her pointing.</p>
<p>Keith grinned at their sibling bantering as he opened Ina’s present, and then thought to himself that maybe they could use Pidge’s gift together with Ina’s.  She’d gotten organic moscato wine in a beautifully decorative bottle.  “Wow,” was all he could say.</p>
<p>“It’s for when you can drink again,” was Ina’s response.  “You can think of it as motivation during labor if you like.”</p>
<p>The shine had come off the forbidden allure of booze ever since Keith could get it whenever he wanted to, but Ina’s decision to consider his needs first was very thoughtful regardless.  “Thanks, Ina.”  He meant it.</p>
<p>“It’s perfect for celebrating when Sunny gets here,” Hunk agreed, and Ina nodded and smiled one of her rare little smiles.</p>
<p>The final present was a really big box with postage stickers showing it had come from New York.  Keith freed wrapped packages from the packing materials like a little kid at Christmas.  Haruka and Kai had sent a haramaki wrap for Keith to wear ‘so your belly does not get cold and chill the baby’ and a ring sling wrap to carry Sunny around in after he was born.  Kuro had sent a little wooden box ‘for the tail of the belly’ after being told by Haruka that the maternity ward nurses didn’t give out keepsake boxes to save the umbilical stump in American hospitals.</p>
<p>Shiro had sent the Maxi-Cosi Mico Max, and he’d gotten it together with the manufacturer’s compatible 5-in-1 modular travel system.  He’d even gotten it in the violet shade that Keith had added to the registry as a whimsical ‘nice to have but not a must have’ item.</p>
<p>“I guess we’re not going to have to remove the bases every single time we use the seats,” Hunk said, dazed.</p>
<p>Keith was right there with him.  “We won’t have to hunt each other down looking for the stroller either.”</p>
<p>Neither of them had actually expected to get both car seats.  Now both of their cars could have a dedicated seat and stroller, which would save them an enormous amount of time and headaches in their daily lives.</p>
<p>Finally, Keith took out Lance’s presents.  He’d sent pleather maternity trousers which put a smile on Hunk’s face which he’d be embarrassed about when he saw the pictures later, and he’d sent a fine washables bag which had something that felt like cloth inside of it.  Keith shook out the cloth into his lap.  It took him a minute to recognize the nursing bras.  Lance had gone past just altering them, changing them into different looking garments entirely, but Keith finally recognized them by the straps.  Then he held one up against himself, forgetting he had an audience.</p>
<p>“My word, Keith.”  Alana leaned forward for a closer look.  “Did those used to be my nursing bras?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Keith grinned.  “I think so.”</p>
<p>Lance had altered the cups to better suit the shape which Keith would eventually have, but he’d also drawn designs on them.  Colorful butterflies adorned each bra, their wings spanning each cup with a diaphanous appearance that he’d accomplished by swapping out the lace for something more gossamer.  Keith unsnapped one cup and pulled it down to its nursing position.  The design was repeated on the inside of the top half of the cup, resulting in the butterfly looking like it was in profile with its wings closed.</p>
<p>“Neat,” said Lena, perching forward to have her own better look.</p>
<p>Keith hummed in agreement.  He didn’t think he’d mind wearing these at all.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've been advised I ought to be adding another disclaimer to my fics that if you didn't read it here then I wasn't the one who posted it.  I want to add that I actually don't mind archivists who clearly state that they didn't write the fic and are just trying to prevent a fanwork from becoming lost media.  Having to hunt down old favorites through the Wayback Machine is not easy.  But when someone posts a fic they found as if it's their own and then interacts with people as if they are the author, they are doing a disservice not just to the actual author but also to the readers.  That's just how I feel about it, YMMV.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Month Seven: MMMBop</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zarkon's plotting finally leads him where he does not want to go.  Keith and Hunk decide to train Kosmo to walk with a stroller.  Lance and Shiro try to take care of an infant simulator.  Both couples make some important decisions.  Tatsuo tries to do an end run around Dai Rin using Pidge, but in the end they probably just should have left it up to Kuro.  Also: Mother's Day.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again to everyone still reading!  You are appreciated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Zarkon stalked the long gallery at Eidolon Hall, but he wasn’t taking his constitutional.  If he had wanted to do that, the weather outdoors was quite exceptional for it. Manigfords dating back to the Hanoverian era gazed down at him from their portraits in the hall with cryptic eyes.  Daven Krupp, whose marriage to Kreios Manigford had brought with it a much-needed infusion of funds in the waning days of the Edwardian era, seemed to be staring at him in a particularly baleful manner.</p>
<p>“I’m trying to find her!” Zarkon exploded, then felt ridiculous.  It wasn’t as if his many-greats grandmother, long in his grave, was really capable of giving a toss.</p>
<p>He had managed to track his erstwhile daughter-in-law back to the land of her father’s birth.  It was simply not that easy for anyone to cross international borders anymore without knowledge of their crossing wending its way through more than one government channel.  From there, the law of familiarity increased the odds that Acxa had returned to her late father’s home state of California.  This was mere supposition, however.  Furthermore, he had no idea where to start looking in The Golden State, as none of his contacts had spotted her anywhere near her former stomping grounds in Los Angeles.  He was now looking for a highly secretive needle in a haystack of nearly 424,000 kilometers inhabited by almost forty million people.</p>
<p>That was assuming, again, that she was actually in California and not fucked off to some other state.  He needed another pair of eyes on this.  Zarkon took his cell phone out of the pocket of his smoking jacket to dial an irritating woman with a particularly special set of skills.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Merla let herself into the townhouse in Ixelles municipality using the security code which had been provided for her.  It was sooner than she’d expected to receive Zarkon’s follow up to schedule a meet, but he did enjoy his skull and dagger.  Cocky of him to rent a place so near to Honerva’s favorite haunts.  She could respect that.  It was too bad he had such poor parenting skills.  He and Honerva had been the sort of power couple who could bring the world to its knees before all the trouble started.</p>
<p>It was an example that could lead a person to conclude that some people’s legacies were better sought without reproduction.  Merla stepped through the entrance hall and passed the kitchen to ascend the staircase.  The message had said Zarkon would be waiting in the second floor library, which sounded like something he would do.  Ridiculous alpha.  But she’d play his silly game if it resulted in freedom for Honerva.  She peeked into a Delft-tiled bathroom and a dim bedroom with a stained glass window before locating the door into the library.</p>
<p>This room had no stained glass, the better to enhance the overhead pendant lamp with natural light.  Every square inch of wall space was lined with bookshelves full of books.  The only furnishings were a wooden table and chair, and a large wingback leather chair.  The wooden chair was empty and the table had a cup of tea resting on it.  Slipper-clad feet protruded from the depths of the wingback chair.  The owner of those feet did not acknowledge Merla’s entry into the room, so she strode forward and rounded the table to look down into the smug face of Koloman Maahox.</p>
<p>“What,” she said.</p>
<p>“Do sit, Merla,” Maahox said.  “We have much to discuss.  Would you like me to prepare you a cup of tea?”</p>
<p>“No, thank you.”  She was too familiar with his notoriety to ever knowingly drink anything he’d prepared.  After satisfying herself that the wooden chair was not rigged in any way, she sat.  “What do you want.”  It was no use asking him how he’d intercepted the communication and then spoofed it.  He’d done it, and he was unlikely to explain his methods.</p>
<p>Maahox smiled, causing his bare eye socket to wrinkle in an unsettling manner.  “It’s nothing too difficult.  I want you to arrange your meeting with Zarkon when he contacts you for real, and then simply don’t go to that meeting.”</p>
<p>Merla folded her arms.  “And why would I do that?”</p>
<p>“Because I can ensure that you will never have to accept a duty roster at the Raible estate if you do as I say.”</p>
<p>Merla sat staring at him a long moment, weighing his reputation against her own estimation of her ability to go to ground if she needed to.  He waited silently while she cogitated.  Going up against Honerva was unlikely to be on his agenda at this juncture in time.  Honerva was simply too important to the safety and well-being of his great grandchild and great great grandchild for that to be the case, and anyway it was Zarkon’s head he seemed to want on a platter.  As for Merla, she’d bet on her skills against Maahox’s any day.</p>
<p>“All right,” she said.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>This time getting seated fast in a very popular restaurant was not down to Shiro’s charming ways.  It was because the owners knew Daniel’s family, and they also knew that it was his birthday.  Lance had already been downtown on a go-see to meet with a client who was looking for the right model for a PSA poster, so he was able to join Shiro, Daniel, Rachel and Omnia at the restaurant for dim sum, picking up Kuro from in front of his school’s building on the way over.  Lunch was Shiro’s treat, but the treat of not having to wait was Daniel’s.  Lance was too thrilled about getting off his feet to feel bad for cutting the line.</p>
<p>They were seated at a round table in a softly lit room decorated in red and gold, and started off with an order of oolong tea.  When the pot arrived, Daniel and Shiro pretended to argue about who got to serve everybody before Kuro reminded them that as the youngest it ought to be him.  Finger taps signaled their appreciation, and then an aproned server arrived with a cart.  They would order what they liked from the cart, and she would stamp their order sheets.  There was a banquet table set up on one side of the room where they could go to find menu items that weren’t in the cart’s steam trays, but Lance’s feet and back were telling him to spend his chances on the cart.</p>
<p>The cart lady had steamed beef meatballs which were giving off a sweet and savory aroma that was calling Lance’s name, voluptuous pork buns that definitely looked like they were worth some of his attention, and something she called phoenix claws which were straight up chicken feet.  They were browned as beautifully as any Thanksgiving turkey, but there was no disguising that shape.  Daniel ordered the large basket.  Lance decided he was going to go ahead and give them a shot.  His mother used chicken feet in her chicken soup recipe, a recipe which she’d learned from Mima.  She always removed the feet before she served the soup, but he’d never tasted chicken soup better than hers, so it must be adding something.</p>
<p>After a brief demonstration from Daniel on how to separate out the edible parts in the mouth and then spit out the bones, Lance discovered that eating phoenix claws was a lot like inhaling buffalo wings on a time crunch, except the sauce didn’t get everywhere thanks to the chopsticks.  They were delicious, and as he and Omnia both attacked them with vigor a lady at the table next to theirs leaned over to inform them that they were good for a baby’s fingernails, so bonus.  Carolína was getting her first nail-strengthening treatment in the womb.  The meatballs and the pork buns were also as good as Lance had been sure they would be, and when the cart lady came back around she had turnip cakes, crystal shrimp dumplings, and several different kinds of rice noodle rolls.  By the end of it, Lance was positive that he’d enjoyed Daniel’s birthday luncheon every bit as much as the guest of honor himself.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“This is kind of ridiculous,” Keith said.</p>
<p>He and Pidge were walking Kosmo and Bae Bae through the people park to the dog park.  Not an unusual scene for them, only this time they’d parked on the street a little farther away instead of at the parking lot closer to the dog park.  They needed the extra walk time to try to habituate Kosmo to walking with a stroller.  Keith had spent a good twenty minutes figuring out how to put the Maxi-Cosi stroller together the previous night and then Pidge had convinced him to test it out with Kosmo on the leash.  They’d quickly discovered that the stroller was pretty light without a kid in it, so they’d made a little detour to the nearest superstore and acquired an inexpensive plushie with a beanbag weight in the bottom so that it could sit up in the stroller.  The plushie, which Keith had dubbed Stunt Sunny, was a pastel unicorn.</p>
<p>Keith hadn’t expected any issues from Kosmo, who was well-trained on a loose leash and responsive to commands.  However, his introduction to Stunt Sunny had resulted in him trying to lift the plushie out of the stroller by the horn, which had not been an encouraging omen.  After warning the confused dog several times that Stunt Sunny was not a toy while Pidge laughed her ass off at them, Keith finally hit on the idea of slinging a throw blanket Hunk had scented for him around the plushie.  Kosmo knew that he wasn’t supposed to roll around on those blankets (even though Keith suspected that he probably did anyway when the humans weren’t there to catch him out) so he ceased trying to drag Stunt Sunny out of the stroller.  Now he walked along beside Keith throwing longing looks over his shoulder every few steps at the toy swaddled in the forbidden allure of a Hunk-scented soft blanket.  They were stopping and starting more than rush hour traffic on the 405. </p>
<p>“Keith.”  Pidge laid her free hand on Keith’s shoulder when they inevitably stopped again so that Kosmo could gaze longingly at the toy enfolded in temptation.  “If your dog is going to imprint on your baby it’s better to find out now.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god, you went there.”</p>
<p>Pidge was still cackling at her not yet ancient but definitely past its prime pop culture reference when they arrived at the entry gate for the dog park.  Some dude smoking outside the gate looked up as they approached.</p>
<p>“Hey,” said smoker dude, “it’s against the rules to bring in a– ” He got a look inside the stroller.  “Um...”</p>
<p>Keith leveled the man with a flat-eyed stare.  “You trying to tell me where I can put my unicorn?”</p>
<p>“Well you can’t bring a stroller in here.”  The guy was back on his personal mission to ensure that if he had to follow a rule he didn’t like then so did everybody else.</p>
<p>“Damn, he’s right.”  Pidge was reading the fine print on the sign.  “Babies I get, I can’t see any park board wanting to be held responsible for the risk of bringing infants around strange dogs, but why strollers?  If you want to risk your stroller getting peed on, it’s your property, you should be allowed to.”</p>
<p>“It’s the rules,” said smoker guy.</p>
<p>“Let’s just take the stroller back to the car and then bring the dogs back.”  Keith didn’t actually want any strange dogs peeing on his new stroller.  “There’s nothing that says unborn children can’t go in there.”</p>
<p>Though for future reference, it would probably be a good idea to look into alternate dog recreation options if he wanted to keep the doggie play dates going.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The labor and delivery suite of the hospital where Lance would have his baby if the fates were kind was located on the tenth floor.</p>
<p>“You okay?” Lance asked Shiro quietly as they disembarked the elevator.  He imagined the grand windows would not be so grand to people who didn’t want to look out of a window this high up.  “We could still go to the other one.”  There was another hospital with a labor and delivery unit much closer to the house, and Doctor Gorma had admitting privileges there too.</p>
<p>“It’s the best,” Shiro said firmly.  This hospital was highly ranked among organizations that ranked such things, and that was the sort of height that Shiro was more concerned about in all things.</p>
<p>Lance held his hand as they followed the nurse guiding their tour to the information desk where Lance might someday soon pull up huffing and puffing (though he still daydreamed of a labor where he’d just sweat beautifully until it was time to start pushing).  Omnia, who had also chosen this hospital, was waiting there with the nurse.  Lance was sure that Antor could have managed to swing some time off for this, but he could also understand why Omnia might not have wanted him to do that.  If for some reason he couldn’t be there on the day, then it would be tougher for her if she had to remember his presence at every step.  Lance was glad that Amue Herakles was still out of town.  If she’d managed to find out about this visit she’d have no doubt spun it into some speculative story about Shiro knocking up both his spouse and his secretary at the same time.</p>
<p>Their tour guide explained that the nurses at the information desk would admit them to triage to find out how far along they were into labor.  She led them down the hall to show them the triage rooms: small squares with a gurney, a couple of medical carts and just about enough standing room to host a laboring patient, a doctor, a nurse and a worried partner, if they all stood close enough together to smell what everybody else had for lunch on their breath.  The guide nurse explained that they weren’t expected to deliver in there, and led them on down the hall to show them that the labor rooms were much larger.  Lance’s whole family could probably stand in one of those rooms with a doctor, a nurse, Shiro and a partridge in a pear tree, and nobody would have to apologize for their garlic breath, so it was a little anticlimactic to find out that only two visitors at a time were supposed to be in there during delivery.  It still seemed like an awful lot of space for a mother who arrived alone.  If Omnia didn’t have any family, then Lance decided that he would lend her some of his.</p>
<p>The guide nurse went on to explain that they’d be able to stay in this big room with a dedicated OB nurse for the duration of their labor if there were no complications.  One of the rooms even had a birthing tub, but that one was first come first served and incurred additional charges not covered by most insurance policies.  Then she led them down another hall to the rooms where they’d go if complications did arise.  Lance could feel Shiro’s palm turning sweaty as they entered an empty OR, and he squeezed his hand in what he hoped conveyed reassurance, though as he looked around at what was clearly a surgical suite he could only hope that this was the only visit he’d be making to this area.  The nurse made a point of reminding them that the hospital was nationally recognized as a leading center for managing high risk pregnancies, and Lance felt Shiro start to relax a little bit through the bond sense.</p>
<p>They next went down to the sixth floor where the postpartum units were located.  The nurse explained that there was a nursery available if needed, but most new mothers preferred to room in with the newborn, and then she showed them how the TV set in the couplet care room had a channel especially for newborn care topics.  There were a number of tests required by the State of New York before their baby could leave the hospital, and the blood would be drawn through the heel, leaving a temporary bruise.  She told them that the hospital had a comprehensive antepartum care unit and a state-of-the-art NICU, with separate tours available for both.  They could expect to remain at the hospital for two days after a routine birth, and they would need to have a car seat installed in their vehicle if they were going home by private car.  If they were naming a partner on the baby’s birth certificate that partner needed to be present when filling out the form, and Lance saw Omnia look pensive at that little tidbit of information.</p>
<p>“We have all of the forms for your advance directives available for download on our website,” was how the nurse closed out the tour.</p>
<p>“Advance directives?” Lance asked.</p>
<p>“Who you wish to appoint as your health care proxy, what sort of treatments you’re willing to consider if you’re unable to tell us yourself, who you would want to take care of your child if you are unable to do so,” this last was directed none-too-subtly at Omnia, “that sort of thing.”</p>
<p>Lance looked up into Shiro’s face and saw the same dawning expression of existential dread he felt in himself.  “We need to figure out who can take custody of Carolína if something happens to us.”  Suddenly, a world-destroying alien invasion didn’t seem so far-fetched.  Who would raise their baby if they couldn’t?</p>
<p>“We have Health Care Agents here at the hospital who can assist you with that if you need advice,” the nurse said, trying to be helpful.</p>
<p>Lance didn’t think a Health Care Agent was going to be able to help them decide who could fill the role of singing lullabies, kissing away booboos, or warning dates to bring their daughter home safe.  Who could possibly replace them if they had to leave her too soon?</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Kuro sat under the bar between his two new friends, fraternal twin sisters Kuvyr and Kalar.  They’d all started right around the same time and wound up in a lot of classes together.  The study abroad program required Kuro to take one Master class per month, and fill in the rest of the week with drop-in classes.  He could take as many as sixteen but no fewer than twelve.  His first month’s Master class had been Jazz Funk and his current one was Commercial Choreo, and he’d continued dropping in on Sven’s ballroom classes whenever he could but he’d also been expanding his interests.  He’d met the Davdabhau sisters in a beginner’s capoeira class, continued the friendly acquaintance in kathak for beginners, and by the time they spent an entire week going to the same body awareness classes they were fast friends.</p>
<p>Today they were dropping in on a heels class and Kuro was excited.  He’d had to get lace up heels from the student supply store to be able to attend.  The instructor wouldn’t allow just any type of heels and had already sent home three students who showed up in platform heels and one person who thought slides were a good idea.  Ilak stood in front of the students, a tall mighty alpha in a black unitard and stiletto boots.  Kuvyr and Kalar had mentioned that Ilak was friends with their father, and something about the way they said it had given Kuro the impression that she was friends with their father in the same way that Shinji was friends with his mother.  Nothing about Ilak’s behavior so far implied that any sort of favor would be bestowed on the twins because of this.</p>
<p>“Before I teach any of you to dance,” Ilak said, “I need to see if you can walk.  Everyone line up for a strut across the floor.”</p>
<p>The class launched to their feet and lined up against the far wall as many of them had been trained to do for floor practice in other disciplines.  As they took turns stalking from one corner of the studio to the other, Ilak said, “Plant one foot in front of the other, use the mirror if you have to.  I want to see you feeling yourself!”</p>
<p>The only type of tall shoes Kuro had ever worn before were geta.  These shoes felt different.  The balls of his feet had greater contact with the floor, but he had to adjust his balance to account for the way that the heels tilted his pelvis forward.  He put a hand on one hip in an effort to feel how his joints moved when he walked in this stance.</p>
<p>“I see we got a little attitude going on over here, looking good Kuro!”</p>
<p>Kuro smiled as he joined his classmates who’d already made it to the other corner.  He had a feeling he was going to like this class.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Tatsuo had a better view of the field through the open shutters of the upstairs room where Kuro used to sleep.  The room also had a small balcony, but that feature was located on the side of the room facing the pond.  Tatsuo could not as easily see past the tree line from there as he could from here.  Workmen had built a retaining wall in the field, in which they meant to break ground and lay the foundation.</p>
<p>Shinji had hired an architect to design a building in keeping with the sukiya style prevalent on the rest of the estate.  The main house had been designed by Takahashi Chihiro, a male omega who had managed to build some repute for himself as a carpenter before marrying Shirogane Takumu.  Local legend had it that Chihiro built the house in the hopes that its comforts would entice Takumu to lay his head there more often.  It was a romantic story.  The counter-narrative that Chihiro had built the house to take in boarders for additional income while Takumu traveled the road of honor had the stronger feeling of truth to it.</p>
<p>Shinji was out there now with the architect, a young beta named Mutsu Yasuo.  Ryu used to collaborate on construction projects with Yasuo’s father quite often.  Tatsuo spotted them down there beside the retaining wall, pointing at things and consulting blueprints, an echo of previous days.  Shinji had built up a unique niche for himself in his industry, yet he remained confident that he could make a production studio work in this location so far removed from a major urban area.  If it resulted in Shinji more often resting his head in the comforts Tatsuo could provide, then perhaps those old romantic stories had the power to live on.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/><em>“We went with Hunk’s parents, with my mom as both the alternate and the standby.”</em>  Keith’s face was serious in the Skype window, as was the topic under discussion.  <em>“We would have liked to have listed my mom as first choice, but she’s a single widow living in a tiny apartment where her name is second on the lease, and there’s no telling if that’s going to change any time soon.  We were afraid the courts wouldn’t like the look of it.  At least with Hunk’s parents as Sunny’s guardians we can rest easy that Mom would be allowed to have as much visitation as she wants.”</em></p>
<p>“We’ve got a similar problem with my mother.”  Lance rested his chin on his hands.  He’d come up to his office to make this call as soon as he walked in the door.</p>
<p>He and Shiro had a preliminary discussion on the way home before Shiro left again with Omnia back to the office.  Shiro didn’t like the idea of uprooting Carolína from wherever she called home, assuming that she’d be old enough to remember home when they hypothetically kicked the bucket.  Lance didn’t blame him, especially considering his past.  They both would have preferred to choose Lance’s mother first, but like Krolia, Vibiana was a single widow living in a home where her name was not first on the deed.  They agreed that the Shinobus were the best choice for standby guardians in case something happened where they were just temporarily unavailable, not deceased.  There was another thing they agreed on.</p>
<p>“Would you and Hunk be willing to let us list you among our alternate guardians?”</p>
<p>Hunk and Keith would be great options to take in Carolína if their first choice couldn’t.  Their own kid was going to be lucky to have them, and they had a family connection through Keith.  The only reason not to list them as a first choice was also one of the strikes against Vibiana; they lived in another state, which might result in a petition to family court before the will could be carried out.  Shiro was adamant that Carolína should experience as little upheaval as possible if the worst should happen, and they both thought they’d come up with a good and reasonable solution to that problem.</p>
<p>Keith gave the little smile with the little head tilt that communicated that he was touched.  <em>“I’m honored.  Of course I’d be willing, and I think I can speak for Hunk that he would be too.  We were actually talking about asking you guys if you’d be willing to be our second alternate.”</em></p>
<p>“Absolutely.”  A subtle weight lifted from Lance’s chest.  “Thank you.”</p>
<p><em>“You’re welcome.”</em>  Keith’s smile turned mischievous.  <em>“If an alien starship crashes on top of L.A. you know your ass better be driving out here like Mad Max to find Sunny, right?”</em></p>
<p>“Best believe it.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Narti took the SAT phone out on the porch, aware of Acxa’s eyes on her back as she supervised the girls eating rice cereal with mashed apples.  They were getting better at maneuvering their little spoons into their mouths, but it was still messy going.  Outside the sun was bright and the air pleasantly cool.  The snow was thin enough on the ground that Narti could risk a take off if she absolutely had to.  She really hoped that she wouldn’t have to.</p>
<p>“Does he know we’re here or not?”</p>
<p><em>“He knows you crossed the U.S. border,”</em> was Thace’s reply.</p>
<p>“Then he probably knows we’re in California.”  Unlike her former employers, Narti would never make the mistake of presuming that Zarkon was brainless just because he chose to behave like a halfwit sometimes.</p>
<p>
  <em>“He has no idea where in California, and he hasn’t left his own property in days.  We have him under surveillance, if he goes traveling we’ll know and fill you in immediately.”</em>
</p>
<p>His words should be reassuring.  The fastest transport Zarkon could hope to use was a plane, which should give them a minimum eleven hour head start to evacuate.  Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt anything to double check that she hadn’t forgotten to put anything in the go-bags.  Just in case.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>They decided to go ahead and bring home some of the furniture they’d picked out, before Keith’s mobility got too shot to want to mess with it.  The swivel glider was delivered already assembled, so they took it out of its protective plastic wrap and put it near the window, then turned on an air purifier to encourage faster dissipation of the plastic wrap smells still clinging to it.  Hunk proved his ‘I could have been an engineer’ bona-fides putting together the 4-in-1 convertible crib, which they soon had set up underneath the mobile of origami butterflies, with the non-toxic mattress resting in it unmade.  They’d decided to wait another month or so to finish making up the crib, not wanting to have to wash linens just for being dusty, so the cute sheets remained folded inside the butler desk.  After all of that successful handyman crafting, who would have thought that it would be the corner changing table that finally did them in?</p>
<p>“I can’t believe how many parts this thing has that all look the same.”  Hunk held up two of multiple identical boards that all went on the table... somewhere.  </p>
<p>They’d chosen that table because it was a space saver with shelves that they could use to stow the diaper supplies close to where the action was going to be.  Keith was beginning to think maybe they should have just taken Hina’s suggestion of slapping a changing pad down on top of a used dresser more seriously.</p>
<p>“We could return it and watch for a garage sale,” he said.  Their neighborhood had garage sales just about every other week.</p>
<p>“No, no.”  Hunk had the steely brow that said he would not rest until the corner changing table was all of a piece.  “I can do this.”</p>
<p>Keith patted Hunk’s shoulder.  “I’ll go make us some sandwiches.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance was pleased when he saw the 3-in-1 convertible crib that he and Shiro had chosen finally delivered and set up in the nursery.  It had high safety ratings and a design of clean lines that matched well with the changing table that was already in there.  The lacy curtains in the bow windows had been replaced with blackout curtains that had blue and pink embroidered bellflowers decorating the interior panels.  Where the tea service furniture once sat now resided a reclining glider with an ottoman, which Lance looked forward to breaking in before the baby came.</p>
<p>The bassinet was a surprise.</p>
<p>“It’s a smart sleeper!” Shiro proclaimed at Lance’s quizzical look.  “For our bedroom, like we talked about.”</p>
<p>Lance had flashbacks to the robo-litter box and its subsequent challenges.  “I thought we were going with the mesh-sided cradle?”</p>
<p>“That one was nice, but look, this one has mesh walls too, and it has little microphones in it so it can hear Carolína cry and respond with soothing noises out of this hidden speaker!”</p>
<p>Lance looked over the oval bassinet, which had a little control panel unobtrusively placed on one of the shorter curves.  “But what about when she needs to be rocked?”</p>
<p>“The smart sleeper does that too.”  Shiro took out his phone.  “Look honey, you can program it on the app.”</p>
<p>It had an app?  Lance folded his arms over his belly.  “This is the robo-litter box all over again.”</p>
<p>Shiro’s chin firmed.  “The robo-litter box turned out to be a good purchase.”</p>
<p>Lance opened his mouth to clap back about their misadventures with the robo-litter box’s learning curve, and then stopped himself.  In the end, the robo-litter box had actually turned out to be a good purchase, but that’s not really what this was about.  This was about Shiro wanting to be involved in Carolína’s babyhood and fearing he might not get the chance.  It was such a far cry from his once upon a time fears of becoming a bad father that Lance didn’t have the heart to tell him to nix the weird robo-cradle.</p>
<p>“Fine,” he said.  “But we’re testing it out thoroughly before we put a real baby in it.”</p>
<p>Shiro relaxed.  “That’s fair.”</p>
<p>So they ran their first test using the fur baby, strapping Atlas into the attached swaddler.  They watched Atlas’s increasingly frustrated yowls cause the bassinet to rock him at increasing oscillation and play white noise at increasing volume, neither the oscillation nor the volume any match for the cat’s, until finally Atlas had enough and Houdinied his way out of the swaddle, leaping out of the bassinet in an explosion of cream colored fluff.  Off he twitched, tail slashing the air angrily.  It was a safe bet he wouldn’t be trying to nap on the nursery rug any time soon.  Hopefully he wouldn’t hide in kitty outrage for too long.</p>
<p>“Well, the bassinet is stable,” Shiro said, and this was proven to be true.  If the struggles of an incensed cat couldn’t knock over the bassinet, then a cranky newborn baby probably wouldn’t either.</p>
<p>“We need something that acts like a human baby for a proper test,” Lance said, slightly preoccupied with the challenge of how he was going to wash the swaddler without having to explain to Haruka how it got cat hair on it.</p>
<p>“What about Keitha?” Shiro asked.</p>
<p>“Querido, Keitha doesn’t have a body to strap into the swaddle, and also she doesn’t move or make noise,” Lance said.  The impulse to consider Lance’s hair manikin was a good one, but they’d probably just wind up staring at Keitha’s grumpy face in the cradle in silence.</p>
<p>“Midori’s too old to fit in there now,” Shiro said after they’d both thought about it for another moment.</p>
<p>“No kidding.”  Lance shuddered to think what Haruka could do to them if they tried to strap her daughter into a robo-cradle they’d only tested once on the cat, and he was amazed Shiro had even considered it.  “We should get one of those simulator dolls like the ones we had to take care of back in secondary school health class.”  A robo-baby to test the robo-cradle.  It was perfect.</p>
<p>“I never had to take care of a simulator doll in high school.”  Shiro looked confused.</p>
<p>Of course he hadn’t.  He was an alpha who’d gone to a private all boys’ school full of alphas and betas.</p>
<p>“We’ve got a childcare class coming up at the hospital right?” Lance asked.  “We’ll just ask the instructor where we can find one of those dolls.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Do we have a birth plan?”  Keith’s fingers latched around Hunk’s bicep hard enough to bruise.  “Why don’t we have a birth plan?’</p>
<p>Their labor and delivery instructor was showing them a video about the various birthing positions the mothers in the class might want to consider, the props necessary to make some of those positions happen, and how to ask for them in a birthing plan.  Some parts of the video were quite graphic.  Specifically the parts related to birthing positions, and results thereof.  Hunk’s was not the only arm being crushed to a pulp by a partner.  The lady seated next to them was whimpering as her omega reacted to a particularly gooey moment in the clip.</p>
<p>No wonder Matt Holt-Kinkade used to never go anywhere without his birth plan.</p>
<p>“We’ll draw up a birthing plan,” Hunk promised.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>♬  In an MMMBop you’re gone!  In in MMMBop you’re not there!  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>Shiro, who was administering two-fingered chest compressions on their little CPR manikin, said, “This feels wrong somehow.”</p>
<p>The song was being played to their Infant CPR class in order to help them keep to the beats per minute for compressions.  They’d been offered a longer playlist and the song choices had been put up to a class vote.</p>
<p>Lance, who was waiting for the two minute switch off, said, “Do you really think “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” was the less inappropriate choice for this exercise?”</p>
<p>Shiro smiled grimly.  “I see your point.  It’s still uncanny.”</p>
<p>They proceeded through a follow up lesson on how to give the breathe of life to an infant with or without a mask before the class broke up and they got their chance to speak to the instructor, Nurse Nahla.</p>
<p>“Baby Anne?”  Nurse Nahla didn’t seem offended by their request on where to get one of those manikins.  “I like your idea to practice with a simulator doll, I wish more new parents thought of it.  But Baby Anne won’t do the things that you need your doll to do.”</p>
<p>Lance and Shiro sighed in resignation.</p>
<p>“I know where you can find the kind of doll that would help, however,” Nahla said.  “We use them for demonstrations in junior high health classes.”</p>
<p>Shiro wrote down the website address that she gave him.  Soon they’d get a proper test of the bassinet, and Lance would finally see that it was a better choice than the one they’d originally looked at.  Vindication would soon be his!</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith and Hunk sat at the kitchen table after dinner, fortified by cups of lemon balm tea as they went over the items on the birth plan template.  The first parts were easy: name, DOB, doctor’s name, all that jazz.  The middle section was also pretty simple: medical conditions, preference of delivery and postpartum options, who Keith wanted in the delivery room with him, what his non-negotiables were if any.  It was the last sections that were kind of head scratchy.</p>
<p>“You can play music in the delivery room?” Keith asked.  “If that’s true, I want them to play “Born to be Wild” when Sunny comes out.”</p>
<p>Hunk smiled as Keith proceeded to play air guitar at the table.  “You want to associate that song with labor contractions forevermore?”</p>
<p>Keith’s air guitar solo came to a crashing halt.  “Yeah maybe not.”</p>
<p>In the end, they both agreed that it would be nice to have a song ready to welcome Sunny into the world.  It could be a nice motivator for pushing too, but it would have to be selected with care.  They were going to need to think on that one a while longer.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/><em>“I received your carnations, Kuro-kun.”</em>  Haha’s face in the video chat was relaxed and smiling.  <em>“It was very thoughtful of you to send them.”</em></p>
<p>“I have you to thank for teaching me to respect observance days, Okā-san.”  Kuro sat in his new bedroom making the Mother’s Day call with Atlas in his lap.  Sending flowers internationally had been no small thing, but Kuro had been happy to do it, and Haha looked far more happy than Kuro could remember seeing him in some time.  It was conflicting to know that someone who was not Kuro’s father could make his mother so happy.  Kuro hoped that he would grow more used to it, because he cared for his family and wanted them all to be happy.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Matt rolled over in the sleigh bed, opening his eyes to late morning light creeping through the blinds over the bisque colored walls.  He sat up instantly wide awake.  Why hadn’t Banon woken him up?  He’d just thrown the comforter aside to jump out of bed when Ryan staggered into the doorway trying to balance the baby on one hip and a folding tray on the other.  Matt laughed and hurried over to take the baby off his hands.</p>
<p>“What’s this?”</p>
<p>“Breakfast in bed,” Ryan replied as he awkwardly tried to grab one of the tray’s handles in a now-free hand and maneuver it out of the crook of his opposite elbow without tipping it.  “I made waffles.”</p>
<p>He’d put them in a covered casserole dish, which made Matt smile.  When the lid came off, the scent of cinnamon and maple syrup rose up enticingly.</p>
<p>“Happy Mother’s Day,” Ryan said.</p>
<p>“Thank you.”  Matt leaned over to kiss his cheek.  “These look delicious.  You want to help me eat them?”  He’d made a lot.</p>
<p>Ryan smiled charmingly.  “I was hoping you’d ask.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Rachel picked Lance up to take him over to her place so they could video chat Mamá together and wish her felicidades for Mother’s Day.  They’d done this the previous year too, with the rest of the family all together in the living room of Casa Bueno’s caretaker cottage.  Dorma had been massively pregnant the last time.  This time Lance was looking forward to seeing Socrates, he was cute as a button in all of the pictures Veronica sent out.  Shiro was off with Kai collecting a fully catered meal so that Haruka wouldn’t have to cook dinner later.  It was supposed to be a surprise but the whole house knew about it.</p>
<p>Rachel had some takeout of her own ready for curbside pickup on the way to the apartment.  “I’m thinking of going with this restaurant for the rehearsal dinner and I need your opinion,” she said as they merged back into traffic.</p>
<p>Lance’s opinion was that it smelled fantastic.  He managed to keep his hands out of the hot bag until they got to the apartment, and then found a surprise waiting for him when he followed her into the dining room.  “Oh Rachel, you didn’t have to!”  </p>
<p>He and Shiro had talked about maybe having a sip and see party since everybody would presumably be in town for Rachel’s wedding, but neither of them had given a lot of thought to a baby shower.  Rachel had gotten a little round cake decorated with a baby block cake topper, and somehow she’d found and lugged a wicker peacock chair up there for Lance to sit in.</p>
<p>Rachel grinned at his reaction.  “I wanted to.  That’s not all, either.”</p>
<p>There were wrapped presents on the table from the family.  Rachel and Lance went ahead and started feasting on the chicken and yellow rice takeout before calling, since they knew that the others were probably eating wherever they were too (they were right).  Lance cooed at eleven month-old Socrates through the video chat, and then the others cooed at Lance opening gifts.  He’d gotten a yellow receiving outfit from Mamá, a bottle of Violetas cologne from Luis and Lisa, an azabache diaper pin from Veronica and Dorma, and cute little white lace christening booties from Rachel.  </p>
<p>Darrell had sent a baby monitor that could be easily hooked into their current security setup.  Omnia had given him the WubbaNub pacifier with the cow plushie attached to it, apparently having delivered her wrapped gift to Rachel at work before the weekend.  The drawback to having a baby shower on Mother’s Day was that most everybody who would have been invited already had plans for that day, but logistically it had been the best day that Rachel could have used to ensure the family could all be together in the video chat while also being able to surprise Lance.  Marco rolled into the video chat late while literally carrying a Starbucks.  His arrival prompted Rachel to take a shipping box out of her dining room sideboard.</p>
<p><em>“Me and a few other people went in on it together hermanito, I hope you don’t mind,”</em> said Marco from his barn loft living room.</p>
<p>The California menagerie had gotten him a baby memory book, handmade with Carolína’s name embroidered on the cover.</p>
<p><em>“One of Cinda’s aunties makes them and sells them at fairs,”</em> Marco said.  <em>“We all pooled together to commission one for mi sobrina.  Lance?”</em></p>
<p>Lance wiped away a tear as he read the well wishes the collaborators had written in the book’s guest pages.  “It’s so nice.”  Keith, Hunk, Marco, the Holts; even Coran had managed to get in on it with a printed letter pressed between the pages.</p>
<p><em>“I think that means you did well mijo,”</em> Vibiana told Marco fondly from the other video chat window.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith turned sideways to check out his look in the walk-in closet’s full length mirror.  They were all going out to a nice restaurant that had a popular Mother’s Day special for dinner, and Keith was wearing the pleather pants.  He could probably thank his commitment to fitness for the fact that Sunny didn’t look as big in there as Keith knew that he was.  The baby had turned head down with his little feet right under Keith’s rib cage.  Doctor Page was confident that he would adjust his position again before he dropped.  He just hoped it was a favorable birth position, because Sunny had favored a transverse lie before finally flipping head down the previous week.</p>
<p>The haramaki that Haruka and Kai had given him was a belly support lifesaver.  He had it on under his button-down, covering up the fine network of striae that had appeared on his lower belly.  Hunk liked it, saying it was soft and it looked like silk floss.  Keith was glad somebody liked it.  No question he loved this baby, but he was looking forward to seeing his regular six pack in the mirror again someday.</p>
<p>Satisfied that he looked cool enough for a family dinner out at a trendier spot than they usually frequented, Keith stepped around the leaning desk they’d placed against the far wall of the closet and emerged back into the bedroom.  A glimpse of bright color out of the corner of his eye caused him to turn his head toward the plant corner.  It was Coran’s bonsai tree.  It had gone into fruit, bearing a number of little green globes and one that had turned orange.  Keith went for his cell phone to take a picture of it to send to Coran.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Dinner at home was relaxed and cheerful.  Shiro had gone to a Peruvian place and brought home escabeche de pollo, with a tofu saltado that Lance would happily eat again for breakfast and maybe lunch too.  For dessert there were picarones, and then there were more presents for the mamitas.</p>
<p>Haruka received enough flowers from the group to open her own flower stand, mostly carnations.  Lance bucked that trend and gave her pink roses like he’d sent to the mothers in his family down in Miami.  Haruka and Kai gave Lance a haramaki and a ring sling like they’d given to Keith.  Haruka was scandalized by all the pregnant people she saw around Manhattan with their bellies hanging out, absolutely convinced that their babies would get cold and determined that Lance should keep his bun in a warm and toasty oven.  Kai just didn’t think strollers were a very convenient way to transport babies.</p>
<p>Kuro gave him a little wooden box for the umbilical stump, as he had done for Keith.  It was a tradition that gave Lance a little pang, as his own mother had kept his and all of his siblings’ umbilical stumps as well, in a keepsake box which had also stored all of their milk teeth; a box left behind in Cuba.  In fact it was a local artisan who made keepsake boxes for milk teeth from whom Haruka had commissioned the box she used for Midori’s umbilical stump, and Kuro had then made his orders from the same person.  Lance’s favorite gift was from Shiro, though.</p>
<p>“Mother Goose?”  Lance smiled as he opened the large hardcover and saw that it was a real book this time, with beautiful illustrations in its pages.</p>
<p>“I forgot to give it to you for Christmas,” Shiro said sheepishly.</p>
<p>“It’s just right for right now,” Lance said.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>After feasting on braised short ribs with polenta and stir fried greens, the big party comprised mostly of Garretts and Manabus handed out Mother’s Day gifts over the dessert of flourless chocolate cake.  Most of the mothers received flowers, but there was one present that wasn’t a sweet scented bloom.</p>
<p>“A Daruma doll?”  Krolia turned the red tumbler doll over in her hands, smiling and probably thinking she was going to humor her son.</p>
<p>“There’s no harm in making a wish.”  Keith had used the doll Akane gave him to set the goal to fly, and had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.  “Who knows, maybe it’ll come true.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>“Thank you for the flowers.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, well.”  Pidge shifted uncomfortably in her gaming chair.  “You’re my mom, so.”</p>
<p>Colleen’s face in the video chat took on that smug smile that only she could do, when she knew her daughter’s sentimental button had been pushed.  It was Mother’s Day, so her yearly get-out-of-roasting-free card was in effect.  <em>“Who’s my snuggy wuggims?”</em></p>
<p>“Mom!”  That free pass only went so far.  “You seem to have mistaken me for Banon.”</p>
<p>Colleen laughed.  <em>“You can get as big as you want sweetie, but you’ll always be my baby.”</em></p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Gyrgan pulled up to the curb outside of the apartment building’s front doors.  He’d escorted Krolia as far as he could at present.  She unbuckled her seat-belt, feeling the pleasant weight of his eyes on her.  It had been a very long time since she’d felt such a respectfully yearning regard from another, desiring much but asking nothing.  She hated to break the moment but she was home now, so it was time once more to pop the bubble.</p>
<p>“I had a lovely time tonight.”  She raised her eyes to meet his.  “Thank you for the ride.”</p>
<p>Small talk had never been her forte, a trait she seemed to have passed on to her son.</p>
<p>“You are always most welcome, serah.”</p>
<p>Such a kind and decent man he was, and so lovably dense at times.  He’d had the house and the crossover vehicle ready for a family for years and probably hadn’t ever realized that he was roosting.  He deserved to find that kind of happiness, whether he found it with her or not.  Suddenly there was a white carnation thrust into the space between the front seats, petals trembling under the dome light.</p>
<p>“Happy Mother’s Day.”  Tommy was in the rear seat.  He’d been very quiet on the drive over from the restaurant.  He’d been acclimating to his new environment with a watchful attitude, but he seemed to be coming out of his shell more and more often lately.  “My mom always said it’s important to honor good mothers.  There was a lady selling these outside the restaurant, and I uh... I thought you should have one.”</p>
<p>Krolia did seem to recall a street vendor wandering the small crowd of people going in and out of the restaurant and its neighboring businesses while carrying a bucket of single stemmed flowers.  She accepted the flower with a nod and a smile.  “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Tommy nodded back.  “You’re welcome.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“You’re out early today, Madame.”  </p>
<p>Mar, the doorman for the day, was just making small talk, but it still rankled like sand in a golf cleat.</p>
<p>“I’d rather start the week off strong than have to spend my weekend playing catch up,” Honerva said.</p>
<p>This was mostly blather, but Mar just said, “Yes Madame” as he opened the door for her so that she could walk out into a morning which still smelled like the previous night’s rain.  Mar might not be among her most socially adept employees, but he was loyal.  At least someone was.  Merla, usually a silently reliable presence at her right hand, had been skulking about recently trying to avoid her notice and Honerva knew very well why.  She didn’t want to relieve Herreh at the Raible estate and seemed to think that hiding her face like a kitten would make Honerva forget that she existed.</p>
<p>It would have been especially nice if Lotor had acknowledged that his mother existed over the weekend.  Honerva was aware that he now lived in a country that observed a mother’s day in concordance with a Marian festival and not in the month of May, but as he happened to have spent the majority of his life in countries that did observe it in the month of May it was difficult for her to believe that he’d merely forgotten.  Honerva stalked toward a café where she intended to stifle her frustration with something sweet and buttery.  Someone opened the door for her.  She glanced over to acknowledge the favor and found Koloman Maahox standing there.</p>
<p>“Please allow me to buy your breakfast,” he said.</p>
<p>Why not?  Honerva ordered her usual doppio with a stack of pancakes and followed Maahox to a table with a good view of Gothic architecture out of the windows.  Maahox ordered a charcoal latte and one of the vegan bowls.  As fiendishly as he smoked, he probably should be less indulgent in other aspects of his life if he cared to prolong it.  They ate quietly for a few minutes before Maahox broached the reason why he was treating Honerva to a free meal, and it was as annoying as she had suspected it might be.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe Merla went so far as to bother you to get out of her duty,” Honerva said.</p>
<p>“Oh, she’s no bother to me,” Maahox said, “but you must understand that it would be deeply uncomfortable for other involved parties to have one so jealous as her around my great grandson.”</p>
<p>“Jealous.”  Honerva laughed on the bittersweet mingled flavors of coffee and syrup.  “Trust me, she’s never had a moment’s romantic interest in my son.”</p>
<p>It had been one of the reasons why she’d preferred Merla for guard duty.  There would have been no distractions if she’d been chosen.  No roguishness.  Then Lotor had to go and choose the smitten one who’d proceeded to overlook his behavior to the point that he was now wanted in several countries.  What a pity.</p>
<p>“It’s not a lost opportunity to become Lotor’s wife that aggrieves her,” Maahox said as he sipped his gritty latte.  “It’s the lost opportunity to become your daughter.”</p>
<p>Honerva paused with her coffee cup half raised to her mouth.  This was a development she had neither expected nor wanted.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“So.”  Hunk followed Keith into the bedroom, his interest as apparent to Keith through the bond sense as it was through his richening scent and rumbling voice.  “Those pants.”</p>
<p>“Hmmm?”  Keith tucked his chin and grinned as he deposited his flowers on the dresser.  He’d received a several bouquets at dinner and decided to combine them all in one large vase.  “What about ‘em?”</p>
<p>“I like them.”  Keith felt the sense of Hunk’s answering grin before he felt it literally against the side of his neck.  “I’d like to see what they look like on the floor.”</p>
<p>Keith threw his head back against Hunk’s shoulder and laughed.  “Babe that’s so cheesy!”</p>
<p>Hunk chuckled as his arms came around to circle Keith’s body.  “What do you think, though?  For real.”</p>
<p>Keith turned his head to deliver a sly smile.  “I think you better go make sure Kosmo has something to watch on DOGTV ‘cause I don’t think he’s old enough to watch what’s gonna happen in here.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance let his head fall back on the pillow as he breathed in time with Shiro’s slow, steady strokes, mindful of the need to be more quiet than usual.  The body pillow was set aside, the body behind him offering support as Shiro moved inside of him, one hand braced against his lower belly, one knee parting two of his.  Bathed in moonlight, they moved in unhurried symphony, as Shiro gave his last gift of the day in the form of his sweet attention.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Your baby’s tummy will only be the size of a cherry just after birth, so don’t be alarmed if you’re not producing a lot of milk on day one.  You’ll produce more milk as the baby’s appetite grows.”  Their nurse instructor, a beefy beta named Lahn, clicked to change the slide.  “Your baby’s first stools will be wet and dark, becoming lighter and more solid as the days progress.”</p>
<p>“I could’ve done without the visual,” Hunk admitted softly.  Lahn had just shown them a timeline of dirty diaper pictures during their hospital lunch and learn.</p>
<p>Keith just shrugged and took another bite of his chicken salad sandwich.  After watching that video where a tear happened right in the camera’s unblinking frame, dirty diapers were hardly a blip on his radar.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“I’m so glad you could both come in today.”  Bobby Yadle’s office was the organized chaos of a man with a lot to do and not a lot of space to do it in, littered with testing drive posters and folders galore.  “We really think Lance is the right person for our latest campaign, but the thing is, we would ask him to pose nude– ”</p>
<p>“Nude!”  Shiro leaned in front of Lance’s chair like he could turn himself into a privacy screen.</p>
<p>“Yes, that’s why we asked to speak with both of you,” Bobby said, leaning across his desk earnestly.  “The photograph would be tastefully done, no genitals would be showing, not even Lance’s entire face, but it’s important to get all of his belly in the shot so that pathos is emphasized in our message.  We want male omegas viewing our poster to take the message seriously.”</p>
<p>“Where would you be showing this poster?”  Shiro was still in hyper vigilant alpha mode.</p>
<p>“Everywhere we can.”</p>
<p>Shiro growled.  Lance leaned around him to view Bobby’s face and found that the beta had leaned back in his chair with wide eyes.</p>
<p>“What is the poster’s message, exactly?” Lance asked.  He knew it was a PSA aimed at male omegas and that the wage was not as high as the catalog shoot because this was for a non-profit, but his previous interview had not made it clear exactly what the PSA was going to be.</p>
<p>Bobby straightened up in his chair, eyes lighting up with the eagerness to help.  “It’s something that potentially affects all omegas, but male omegas are too often are under prepared for it.  We want to get the word out...”</p>
<p>As Bobby outlined his organization’s goal, Lance started to get interested, and Shiro started to calm down.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Alright everybody, listen up.”</p>
<p>Ilak called the class to order as soon as she walked in.  The low level buzz of gossip whispered to silence.  Kuro wondered if there were any disciplines where the students were more loathe to part with valuable class time than dance.</p>
<p>“We’re going to have a film crew in here after class to tape the combo that we’re learning today.  If you have two extra hours to stay for filming you are all welcome!  If not, don’t worry, I’m sure another opportunity will come up in a matter of weeks.”</p>
<p>Kalar vibrated with such excitement as to send her pink mohawk shivering in the air conditioning.  Kuro felt the same way, as probably did many other of their classmates.  If anyone had made plans for later, no doubt some of those plans were being canceled.</p>
<p>“Now that we’ve got that clear, let’s form up in front of the mirror.  We’ll start with a couple of run throughs before breaking it down.”</p>
<p>They lined up in formation to start learning the combo.  They were going to watch Ilak do the first run through, but she liked to get them into a position where they could feel free to mirror her if they wanted to test the movements out.  Soon they were breaking the combo into parts, and Kuro’s hamstrings were singing from the short duckwalking section.  They tested their flexibility in floor work.  They body rolled back to their feet and soon Kuro’s deltoids were singing too.  The whole class was downing electrolyte water like horses at the river.</p>
<p>Ilak was quick with the praise.  “That’s right, cock that hip and shake it out, perfect!”</p>
<p>And the critiques.  “Less hairography, more isolations, people!”</p>
<p>Once they were all finally a quivering mass of loose tendons and sweat, that was when it was time for the film crew to come in and tape.  Kuro was so ready for it.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Their robo-baby arrived special delivery.  The first thing they had to do was charge it, and the second thing they had to do was program it with the provided software, which lulled them into a false sense of security.  Even though they weren’t actually high school students, it still wouldn’t work correctly without programming the wrist bands.  Lance had hated that he couldn’t add more than one person as a babysitter when he’d used one of these things in secondary school.  It just wasn’t realistic to assume that if he really were a teen mother then his own mother and siblings wouldn’t be all over that baby at all times.  Anyway, nobody was grading them on who actually took care of this robo-baby, but whatcha gonna do.</p>
<p>The robo-baby came with a bunch of other sensor accessories besides the wrist band to simulate taking care of it.  They put the robo-baby in a sensor diaper and onesie and then programmed robo-baby for a random behavior pattern to last through the following morning.  Then they activated robo-baby and heard the chime confirming it was ready to go.  Right after that was when Shiro made the first goof of the night, picking up the robo-baby by its plastic arms.  Robo-baby proceeded to scream like a banshee portending the doom of a thousand souls.  Or just two souls: his and Shiro’s.</p>
<p>“What did I do?”  Shiro held the screaming robo-baby away from his body, still by its upper arms.</p>
<p>“You’re still doing it.”  Lance held his arms out.  “Gimme.”</p>
<p>Shiro dropped the robo-baby in his arms like a hot bag of poop.  Lance held the seven pound piece of plastic in his arms and rocked.  He really had not missed this part.  No plastic baby doll ever felt like a real baby, no matter how much noise it made.  Within about three minutes, robo-baby stopped screaming and made a cooing noise.</p>
<p>“How did you do that?” Shiro asked in wonder.</p>
<p>“I supported its head.”  Lance turned to the side to demonstrate.  “See?  Newborn babies can’t hold their heads up by themselves.  The robo-baby’s programming records a pick up without head support as a mishandling event.”</p>
<p>“But its neck only swivels side to side,” Shiro said.</p>
<p>“It’s programmed to react like its neck is floppy as a noodle.”  Lance had a feeling he was going to be repeating similar words often until the simulation ended.</p>
<p>Shiro grumbled about the robo-baby being illogical as they put it in its included sensor car seat and took it downstairs with them to dinner.  Haruka and Kai gave the robo-baby the side eye but didn’t comment.  Midori gave it the wide-eyed wary stare such an unnatural creature deserved.  Kuro asked, “What are you going to name it?”</p>
<p>“Robo-baby,” Lance said without missing a beat.</p>
<p>Kuro frowned.  “But that is so impersonal.  If you want the simulation to feel realistic, it should have a name.”</p>
<p>“Screamo,” Shiro said as he reached for the rice bowl.</p>
<p>“Not a stupid name,” Kuro insisted.  “It should be a nice name so you associate it with nice thoughts.”  He smiled brightly.  “Like Kintarō!”</p>
<p>“Like the Golden Boy?”  Haruka looked pained at the idea of giving that name to the chunk of plastic sitting there looking extra surreal in its car seat next to the real baby in her high chair.</p>
<p>“It’s a girl,” Lance said.  “Well obviously it’s not a real girl,” he backpedaled.  It was anatomically correct in the form of a girl, but Lance knew the difference between the robo-baby and a real baby even without the visual reference, thanks much.</p>
<p>“How about Hiyoko,” Kai suggested.</p>
<p>Then Hiyoko cried and Lance had to stop eating to feed the doll from a breastfeeding sensor pinned to his chest.  Kuro thought that this was awesome and neat.  Kuro had obviously never had to take care of one of these robo-babies before.  Lance thought maybe Kuro should take a turn after he and Shiro were done with their own test.  After all, he and Pidge had been ramping up their romantic text game (his room was right next door to Lance’s office, so he had a front row seat to their antics) and it was only natural that they would eventually start thinking about graduating to something more serious, so first they should have a virtual baby.</p>
<p>After dinner and chit chat, they took robo-baby Hiyoko up to their room where the robotic bassinet  awaited them.  They’d decided to call it an early night.  Shiro, because he planned to pretty much stand over the robo-cradle to verify that it worked.  Lance, because he’d used one of these infant simulator dolls before and the memories were all coming back to warn him that he’d better get some sleep while he still could.  Hiyoko cried for a diaper change and Lance changed the doll into the other sensor diaper while Shiro supervised.  If he thought he was just going to be supervising all night long he was in for a surprise later.</p>
<p>They swaddled Hiyoko and clipped the swaddle into the robo-cradle.  Hiyoko stared up at them out of painted eyes between eyelids sculpted to squint myopically.  “‘kay, I’m going to bed,” Lance said, turning away from the semblance of domesticity to get into his pj’s.</p>
<p>“‘kay,” Shiro said distractedly.  He remained standing over Hiyoko in the robo-cradle as Lance and Atlas both climbed into the bed and found their comfy spots.  Atlas wasn’t really supposed to be hogging the middle of the bed, but if it lured him away from trying to sleep in Carolína’s cribs then Lance was willing to indulge him.  Shiro could be the one to plop his furry behind away from the middle when he got in.  Meanwhile, Shiro remained standing over Hiyoko in the robo-cradle.  Maybe he didn’t realize that Hiyoko could only sense his presence by way of the wrist band, not whether his presence was vigilant or just creepy.</p>
<p>“Querido, come to bed.”</p>
<p>“I just want to see if this cradle works like it says it does.”</p>
<p>“Trust me, you’ll find out, but it’s on a random setting so you can’t predict it.  Come to bed.”</p>
<p>Shiro sighed.  “Fine.”  He changed into sleep clothes, scooped up the cat’s relaxed body and set him down near the foot of the bed, and climbed in next to Lance.  He then proceeded to prop himself up against the headboard and read up on the world’s stock markets on his tablet.  Lance dozed off.</p>
<p>Hiyoko cried.  Shiro sat straight up in the bed as Lance tried to lumber into a sitting position beside him.  Atlas made a discontented noise and hid under Shiro’s pillow.  The robo-cradle began to sway side to side emitting shushing sounds.  Hiyoko’s cries ended with a coo.</p>
<p>“It worked!”  Shiro was beyond joy.</p>
<p>“S’great querido.”  Lance fell back into the embrace of his body pillow.  “Sleepin now.”</p>
<p>“Night honey.”  Shiro went to fluff his pillow and accidentally fluffed the cat, but eventually they all dozed off again.</p>
<p>Hiyoko cried.  Three sets of eyes popped open, watching.  Three sets of ears listened as the shushing sounds increased steadily in volume.  Hiyoko’s wails increased accordingly.</p>
<p>“Why isn’t it working?”  From the heights of joy to the pits of despair goeth Shiro.</p>
<p>“Hiyoko is probably hungry,” Lance grumped.  “I don’t think the cradle is designed to address that problem.”</p>
<p>Shiro’s head turned to look down at his mate hopefully.</p>
<p>“Get the bottle,” Lance said.</p>
<p>“But we’re breastfeeding.”</p>
<p>Lance smacked Shiro with a pillow.  “My teats are currently out of service.”</p>
<p>They were planning on breastfeeding Carolína, and then introducing a bottle for expressed milk, so eventually Shiro would get a turn feeding their baby.  Their real baby.  He could take all the turns feeding the robo-baby for the rest of the night as far as Lance was concerned.  Shiro got the hint and got out of bed, grabbing the bottle.  Then he undid the swaddle and tried to lift Hiyoko out by the hand and the screaming intensified again, easily drowning out the shushing sounds.</p>
<p>“Oh my God.”  Lance lolled against the body pillow.  “Make it stop.”</p>
<p>“I’m trying.”  Shiro sat down on the end of the bed and tried to offer the sensor bottle to an upset robo-baby.  Of course the robo-baby wasn’t having it.</p>
<p>“Give it.”  Lance held out his arms.  Shiro didn’t hesitate to offer Hiyoko over, holding it out by the plastic feet.  Lance couldn’t help laughing.  “You’re not holding Carolína until her fontanelle is closed, mister.”</p>
<p>“Sorry.”  Shiro sat in bed beside Lance as he soothed Hiyoko and then used the sensor bottle to virtually feed it.  His entire posture was sheepish and Lance took pity on him.</p>
<p>“Here, you can burp Hiyoko,” he said, handing the robo-baby over with head support.  He took some pity on Shiro, but not all of the pity.  “Careful of the head.”</p>
<p>Shiro held Hiyoko against his chest like they’d been taught in one of their classes at the hospital, gently patting the back until it cooed.  “I did it.”</p>
<p>Lance smiled up at him.  “Good job daddy.”</p>
<p>They managed the rest of the night in a much more organized fashion, taking it in turns to feed, burp, and change Hiyoko.  They never had to soothe, however, as the robo-cradle proved it was capable of doing that one task on its own.  When the morning came they were sleepy but more confident.  Of course the ultimate field test was going to be when they brought Carolína home, but for Lance the simulation test was a pass.  It didn’t hurt at all that Atlas now wanted nothing to do with that bassinet, either.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Zarkon felt confident that no one of his acquaintance would find anything suspicious about him wanting to take in the sea air.  After all, everyone knew that his life had been quite stressful lately.  He was able to hire out a large house in Kent facing the beach, with peaceful views and a short taxi ride from the nearest rail station.  Best of all though, it had its own private tunnels dug into the chalk cliffs, leading from underneath the house all the way to the harbor.  The smugglers tunnels were all supposed to have been blocked off from private residences, but the house’s longtime owner, who had inherited the property and only rented it out to trusted friends, had not complied.  This should make it relatively easy for Merla to pay him a visit unnoticed.  Easy for Zarkon, that is.  Merla still had to walk.</p>
<p>It was always a risk having her come to him to trade intelligence, but it was a risk that simply couldn’t be helped.  Zarkon made his way to the main kitchen and was pleased to see that his confrère had set out the tea caddy for him.  The tea service stood ready on the counter as well, so Zarkon set about putting the kettle on to make himself a cuppa.  Blue blood he may be, but helpless he was not.  Surely Acxa would be able to see that he was perfectly capable enough to raise her daughters to become proud Manigfords.  Or if not her, perhaps the Herakles boy would see reason.  Perhaps Zarkon could even foster all three girls.</p>
<p>Such were his optimistic thoughts as he carried the tea service out to the living room.  He set the service down on the tea table beside the couch and then poured himself a cup.  One lump of sugar?  No, two.  Zarkon stirred his tea and sipped, and relaxed.  As he finished his cup and tried to set it down on the tea table, he realized that he was altogether more relaxed than he should be.  The emptied cup tumbled from his limp hand onto the couch cushions.</p>
<p>A short, slim figure stepped around the corner from the bright dining room into the more dimly lit living room.  The figure leaned over Zarkon’s slumped form, its grinning features coalescing out of the blurriness created by Zarkon’s eyes trying to slide shut.  “You’re not Merla.” he said, and then he was out.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Maahox checked Zarkon’s pulse and found his blood pressure slow but steady.  He’d keep, and might not require another sedative for a while.  Maahox then snapped on plastic gloves and set about washing the tea service and putting it to rights before confiscating the sugar lumps, which he’d dosed with anesthetic syrup.  He wanted Zarkon to disappear mysteriously from this house in such a way that anyone who might eventually miss him would assume he must have done so under his own power.  How fortunate that there were tunnels he could use to gain entry to this house, and then use again to take Zarkon out of it.</p>
<p>There was a class A yacht berthed perfectly legally in the harbor waiting for his return.  Technically it was Roland’s yacht, though at present it was manned by Maahox’s own people.  It was awfully convenient sometimes having a hot shot movie director of international renown for a grandson-in-law.  If Maahox could get Zarkon onto the boat without arousing local suspicion then he could sail off into the sunset and the presence of the boat would most likely go unremarked upon.</p>
<p>Maahox went back to the tunnels to get the folding wheelchair he’d brought with him.  Zarkon was a large, heavy man, so pushing would give him better leverage than a gurney would have.  In addition to that, they’d attract less attention in the harbor if it just looked like he was taking care of his injured friend.  Maahox put an air boot on one of Zarkon’s feet and bandaged his face with medical tape.  They’d no doubt be noticed, but they wouldn’t be noticed as ‘man absconding with notorious nobleman’ and that was the important thing.  Maahox whistled a happy little tune as he pushed his charge into the tunnels, mindful of the rough flooring which could snag the wheels.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Pidge opened her laptop on a table at the library and dug her headphones out of her bag.  She set up her workstation, but before pulling up JSTOR she took a little detour to YouTube.  Kuro was in a dance video at his new campus, and he’d been really excited about it on the phone.  Pidge couldn’t wait to see it.  She clamped the headphone cans over her ears and clicked play.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  They say fashion kills  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>The video started with a group of dancers hitting their marks to the lyrics and they were good, especially being able to pull off those moves in heels, but there was no Kuro in si– oh wait, there he was.  The second group had him dancing in formation between two statuesque girls sporting vivid hair, but those two girls could have been ten foot tall Na’vi and Pidge still wouldn’t have been able to tear her eyes away from Kuro.  Twisting and turning, rolling and dropping, and all of it in heels.  Pidge’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth to contain the drool.  She played the video back a second time and during the closing credit reel she scrolled down to show her support with a comment.  That was when she discovered that the thirst was still real, and it was a lot easier for her to read it in English.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  Work it baby  ♬</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>They shot the pictures for the PSA poster on a closed set.  The only people present were the photographer, the art director (Bobby), the makeup artist, and Shiro who had insisted and taken time out of his workday to be there.  Lance had decided to donate his wages for this job to the non-profit.  It was a worthy cause, and from the questions Shiro was peppering Bobby with while the makeup artist toweled him off it would be a cause that Shiro would soon be helping as a sponsor.</p>
<p>Lance chatted with Desto, the makeup artist, who was going out of her way to make him feel comfortable while she applied olive oil to highlight the contours of his abdomen.  They wanted the camera to pick up everything, including the linea nigra bisecting his belly, and his nipples, huge and soft but still not yet filling out with milk.  Desto helped him pose on the stool set up against a grey muslin backdrop in the center of a trio of softbox lights.  Lance had to sit with one foot on the floor and the other propped on the stool’s foot rail in order to keep his giblets out of the shot.  Then he was angled so that the side of his neck facing the camera lens was the side without the claim mark showing.  Bobby asked him to pose looking down at his belly with his hands encircling it and the photographer started shooting.</p>
<p>They made a few minute changes over the next hour, with Lance moving his hands to different spots on his abdomen.  In some shots he only placed one hand on his stomach.  In others he looked over his shoulder instead of down at his belly.  By the end of it he was more than ready to let Shiro help him off that stool and slide into a robe.</p>
<p>“Ready to get some dinner?” Shiro asked with a smile.</p>
<p>“More than,” Lance said.  Sitting up straight for an hour must have burned some calories, because he was hungry.</p>
<p>Lance got dressed, and then Kai picked them up at the curb outside the building.  They were going to meet Rachel and Daniel at the same restaurant where Rachel had gotten pickup on Mother’s Day.  She was reassured that the food was good, but now they wanted to test the ambience and service.</p>
<p>The restaurant was on the bottom floor of a Modernist mid-rise in Midtown, offering Latin-Asian fusion cuisine in an upscale setting.  The interior was decorated in distressed woods and chalk-painted walls, wrought iron room dividers and big tropical plants, but the overall effect was more luxe than the decadence which had inspired it.  Nobody would worry about a bug getting in their drink in here, but neither would they ponder the cyclical nature of life.  It would probably be fine for bringing kids as long as they avoided the posted Happy Hour.</p>
<p>Rachel and Daniel waited at a table set for four with a lit votive candle in the center, a three-bladed ceiling fan stirring the air lazily above their heads.  They stood and traded greetings before Shiro helped Lance lower himself into the chair, because getting into and out of any sitting position that didn’t have arm rests to help him was starting to become a process for him.  The waiter came and took their drink orders – mojito for Rachel, Tsingtao in the bottle for Daniel, a ginger beer for Shiro and a non-alcoholic malta for Lance.  </p>
<p>The waiter brought along a half-filled tumbler of condensed milk for Lance with a wink and a reassurance that it was on the house.  Lance stirred malta into the milk happily.  He hadn’t had one of these in years.  It was a little presumptuous of the waiter to assume he’d want one just because he was pregnant, but it was a presumption borne out as truth, so score one for the wait staff.</p>
<p>They ordered a mixed appetizer plate of steamed pork dumplings and tostones, with an ají sauce for dipping.  Then they ordered a crispy fried whole fish, a pan of paella, a five-spice roast chicken, and tiger salad.  By the time they were done consuming all of that, it was a challenge to make it through dessert.</p>
<p>“We have to try some,” Rachel insisted.  “You promised.”</p>
<p>“Go down the block to the hardware store and get a wheelbarrow,” Lance said to Shiro.  “You’re gonna need to roll me out.”</p>
<p>But they found enough room in their stomachs for matcha tres leches cake, black sesame flan, plátano maduro a la mode, and mango pudding.  In the end they all agreed that this was a fine place to bring members of both families for the rehearsal dinner, and Lance was grateful to his sister for including him in this trial run since there was a good chance he wouldn’t get to go to the real deal.  As they lingered over three coffees and one ginger tea, the time came around for another important discussion that Rachel and Daniel didn’t yet know was on the table.  Lance glanced at Shiro over the rim of his tea cup and saw that he was looking back.  Lance nodded.  Shiro lowered his demitasse back to the saucer and cleared his throat.</p>
<p>“If you want to fight for the bill, you ought to know that I already told them when we made the reservation that I was paying,” Daniel said.</p>
<p>Lance happened to know that Shiro had attempted the same trick when he’d called ahead for confirmation of the reservation and wondered what their waiter was planning on doing about that.</p>
<p>“That’s, uh, thank you Daniel.”  Shiro took a second to collect himself.  “But that’s not what we wanted to talk to you about.  You see, Lance and I, we’ve been talking, and there’s something very important we need to discuss with you– ”</p>
<p>“You want to back out of the betrothal day hosting duties,” Daniel said, horror-stricken.  “It’s the clash of joy!”</p>
<p>“What?”  Shiro was off his game.  “No!”</p>
<p>“We want you to raise our kid,” Lance cut in.  “If something happens to us, that is.”</p>
<p>The table went silent.  Finally, Rachel said, “Lancito, are you sure?”</p>
<p>Lance nodded.  “Yes.  We’ve talked it over and if the unimaginable happens then there’s nobody we’d rather have looking after Carolína than you two.”</p>
<p>Rachel was the most mom-like person either of them knew who wasn’t an actual mom (or Hunk) and Daniel might be brash, but he tried his best at everything he did.  They were rock solid as a couple with great prospects for a healthy marriage and prosperous future.  There were longstanding social and family ties between the four of them, and they lived in New York.  They were perfect.</p>
<p>“This is really major,” Daniel said, fear turned to awe.</p>
<p>“Yes.”  Shiro nodded patiently.  “It is.”</p>
<p>“We’re honored.”  Daniel and Rachel traded a long look.  “Would this make us the godparents?”</p>
<p>“If you’re willing,” Shiro said.  “You don’t have to say anything right away.”</p>
<p>They traded another long look.  “We say yes,” Rachel said, and Daniel nodded.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Keith and Hunk started regularly walking Kosmo around the block with both of the strollers, and it wasn’t unusual for the neighbors to spot them walking side by side with Stunt Sunny in one stroller and Chibi Kosmo in the other, taking turns as to who would be handling Real Kosmo’s leash.  Kosmo gradually got accustomed to the notion that the soft body in the stroller was not for him to play with.  He got rewarded with lots of treats and snuggles when he performed well on the walk.  There was a chanceful moment where he almost took off after a squirrel, but he remembered his training and responded immediately to “Heel!”  That resulted in the best snuggle reward of all as both of his humans tried to hug him at the same time.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Tatsuo had brought a tatami mat, futon, chabudai and zabuton up to Kuro’s former bed chamber in order to make himself comfortable while he supervised the ongoing building project from above.  Looking out of the window he could see four bamboo poles connected by sacred ropes, from which fluttered shide streamers.  A Shinto priest had come on Tomobiki to perform jichinsai so that the ground could be blessed by the Kami before excavation began on Taian.  However, the ongoing project that would bring Shinji closer to home was not his main concern on this morning.  Rather, he was concerned about Kuro.</p>
<p>He still fumed at the memory of Dai Rin’s call.  <em>“I would have preferred he not make videos such as that one, but there is still hope to add him to Doll M8.  We could market him as a fallen angel!  Nobody has tried that one yet.”</em>  What would it take to get this man to give up?</p>
<p>He took out his phone and FaceTimed Kuro’s suitor.  She answered within seconds, looking grumpy.  <em>“My dinner just came out of the microwave.”</em></p>
<p>“Have you seen Kuro-chan’s latest dance video?” Tatsuo asked without preamble.</p>
<p>Holt’s expression turned conflicted before she could hide it.  <em>“Yes, I’ve seen it.”</em></p>
<p>Good.  “Then you have seen the public’s reactions to it.”</p>
<p>Holt’s expression then twisted to distaste.  <em>“Yeah, I don’t like it, but Kuro says that it goes with the territory.”</em></p>
<p>“Well I do not wish it to go with Kuro-chan’s territory.”  Tatsuo stared down Kuro’s suitor through the telephone screen.  Holt had her hair up out of her face in two pigtails, revealing the gold chain of a necklace.  “Do you still wish to marry my son?”</p>
<p><em>“Of course!”</em>  Holt sat up straight, little rosebud face determined.</p>
<p>Good and good.  “You may marry him,” Tatsuo said with matronly authority.  “You have my blessings to proceed with the final phase of courtship.”</p>
<p><em>“I do?”</em>  Holt’s large round eyes widened like an owl’s.  <em>“But what if– ”</em></p>
<p>“If Shiro-kun gives you any trouble over it then call me at once,” Tatsuo said before ending the FaceTime call.</p>
<p>He had not wished to see his only child married so young, but the persistent threat of Dai Rin demanded some form of protection be placed upon Kuro.  In Tatsuo’s experience, a claim mark on the neck offered much protection.  Besides, he’d seen enough of Holt’s self control by now to trust that she would not be a bad alpha for Kuro.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Pidge stared at the FaceTime logo on her iPad mini while her mac and cheese got cold.  She had been about to ask her would-be mother-in-law what he thought she was supposed to do if Kuro wasn’t ready to go ahead and get married yet.  Shiro’s potential freak out was the very least of her worries.  She went through the motions of opening a can of dog food for a patiently waiting Bae Bae while she mentally went through the can of trouble Tatsuo had just opened for her.</p>
<p>She and Kuro had an agreement that they were both going to finish school before embarking on the adventure of marriage.  Pidge had no problem starting that chapter of their lives before she finished school, but what about Kuro?  He had, what was it now, one more year for his degree?  Then, what if he got hired to go on tour with a pop star after that?  He was training for a career as a professional dancer, after all.</p>
<p>Besides that, there was the little matter of Spring term not being over until early June, and she was already committed to summer session starting less than two weeks after that.  Pidge hit the express button on the microwave to reheat her dinner.  She couldn’t reasonably drop everything to go running up to New York on Tatsuo’s say-so with finals week looming in the near future.  She took her macaroni out of the microwave and brought it over to her little round dinette table.  As she blew on the steaming pasta, she realized she needed some advice.  As she took a tentative bite and found the pasta to be lava hot, she realized that she knew two omegas who could give her that advice, and she knew where they were going to be the very next day, too.</p>
<p>Guess she was gonna ditch a class after all.  So long perfect attendance record.  At least it was just C++, she could do that in her sleep.  </p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“I’m all set.”  Kolivan stood in the observation cab of the fire lookout tower, SAT phone to his ear, duffel at his feet.  The accommodations were sparse, but the view was incredible.  It was fortunate that he was so overqualified to take the volunteer post that the Forest Service had jumped at the chance to shuffle him into the rotation.</p>
<p><em>“If you’re sure that this is the best way to go about it.”</em>  Thace remained skeptical of this plan, thinking they ought to simply move the Perdana-Price family to another safehouse after Zarkon’s little disappearing act.</p>
<p>“I’m sure.”  Kolivan remained firm in the belief that Zarkon had not shaken his surveillance tail, but that another party had gotten past them and taken him off the playing board.  He’d bet money that other party was associated with the Raibles.  A yacht registered to the movie director who’d married into that family had been spotted in the harbor near the house where Zarkon had vanished.  That could hardly be a coincidence.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Keep me apprised.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Roger wilco.”</p>
<p>Kolivan had high-powered binocs with which he could make out enough of the Perdana-Price homestead to know if someone was approaching too near.  He had the proximity and technical know-how to hack into Perdana’s security feeds if he needed to.  And if by some chance an adversary breached that security, he had a long range sniper scope rifle that would give him the ability to interfere before he could get boots on the ground out there.  This, to his way of thinking, was a much better plan than letting the Raibles smoke Acxa Price out of hiding when they weren’t even certain yet how much they actually knew.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>This Tai Chi stuff was harder than it looked.  Keith and Matt were like, in the zone.  Even little Banon riding in a baby carrier on Matt’s chest had found his inner baby peace as they all shifted slowly from one stance to another.  Pidge had just never been all that good at holding still.  If her body wasn’t moving, then her brain was.</p>
<p>“And now, repulse the monkey.”</p>
<p>The whole class flowed into a hands-raised pose that Pidge had trouble believing would actually stop a determined monkey.  She was sure she’d seen the instructor before, in a computer science seminar on campus.  It was hard to forget an audience member standing up in her chair and getting in a loud argument with the presenter about the risk to reward ratio of overclocking.  Pidge supposed she could have just sat herself down on the grass and waited for the class to end, but she’d recognized Larmina and wondered how a woman with a temper like hers would be at teaching a class on how to be more chill.  Well, now her curiosity was satisfied: it was not about being more chill, it was about enduring the sustained torture of moving like a sloth.</p>
<p>Finally the class ended and Pidge could move on to her plan to take those two to lunch and pick their brains.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Matt said, “but we can’t pick any place with a wait time because I have to go into the office in a couple of hours.”  He was back at work but on flex time.</p>
<p>“Ditto,” Keith said.  “I’ve got to cover an evening shift.”  He’d been training his replacement but he still had to put in minimum hours to maintain his insurance.</p>
<p>They went to a diner where the waitress brought Banon a high chair, and then she brought coffee for Pidge and Matt and orange juice for Keith.  Matt got a fried chicken sandwich with some avocado on the side to feed to Banon, while Pidge went for the tuna salad with extra fries.  Keith got a burger and a cup of chili.  Pidge explained her situation while Matt made airplane noises and Keith inhaled his burger.</p>
<p>“I think you ought to talk to him about it,” Matt said as he landed a spoon full of mashed avocado in Banon’s mouth.  “Doing it soon is more important than doing it in person.”</p>
<p>“I agree with him.”  Keith had a little corner of bun leftover from his burger which he dipped into the chili.  “If you wait for a chance to go in person, his mother’s going to check up on you by calling him and asking questions.  Then he’ll figure it out and wonder why you didn’t tell him first.”</p>
<p>They were right.  Pidge dragged a fry through ketchup while she gave that a short think, because that wasn’t really the end of her questions.  “Do you think Tatsuo’s plan would really work?”</p>
<p>Matt and Keith traded one of those ‘secret omega club’ looks.</p>
<p>“People would stop hitting on him, but they wouldn’t stop making comments,” Matt said.</p>
<p>“Most people would stop hitting on him,” Keith added.  “Some people can’t take a hint.”</p>
<p>So, more of a draw than a complete solution.  “Does being married make anything easier?”</p>
<p>“It makes the logistics of being together easier,” Matt said.  “Sharing expenses also helps, as long as you agree about what you’re spending the household funds on.  If you disagree, then there’s going to be a fight.”</p>
<p>“You’ll have someone to share everything with,” Keith said.  “All the good times, all the chores, all the times you really need to lean on someone, if you’ve got your best friend with you then all of that stuff is better.  But yeah, if you can’t figure out how to share the chores, there’s gonna be trouble.”</p>
<p>“You’ll also share things you’d have rather not shared with anybody,” Matt said.  “Any weird habits you have, they’ll find out about.  They’ll find out what you look like pooping.”</p>
<p>Well, that answered that question.  Pidge wasn’t sure she was ready yet to have Kuro know what she looked like sitting on the can, and she kind of doubted he was either.  But she’d still call him and talk about it, because it was the right thing to do.  In the meantime, she got a promise out of Matt to watch her dog if by chance she should need to go out there in person.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Ani had indulged Kuro and gotten him black linens for his bed, with black sheer drapes for the terrace door.  They were appealingly stark against the otherwise alabaster color scheme remaining in the rest of the room.  Kuro felt like a boat in a pond as he sat in the center of his black pintucked comforter rocking Hiyoko.  A boat without oars.  What could make this robot child stop crying?  He’d tried everything!</p>
<p>His cell phone rang, and that was another indulgence Ani had bestowed upon him, as he was unwilling to let Kuro go about the city on his own without a smart phone.  It was an iPhone so that Haha could FaceTime him, which he seemed to be doing right now.  Kuro took it out of its dock on the night stand and answered the call, but it was not Haha, it was Pidge.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh my God Kuro, are you alright?”</em>
</p>
<p>No, not really, but he did not wish to worry Pidge.  “It is not me crying, it is the baby.”  Though Kuro himself probably did look like he was on the verge of tears.</p>
<p><em>“The baby?”</em>  Pidge looked shocked.  <em>“I thought Lance wasn’t going to pop that kid out for another couple of months?”</em></p>
<p>“It is not mei-chan,” Kuro said, holding the phone so that the wailing robot baby was in the frame.  “It is Hiyoko-chan.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Kuro, why are you taking care of an infant simulator?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Because Lance and Ani took care of her one night and I thought it was cute so they offered to let me have a turn.”</p>
<p><em>“Oh Tesoro,”</em> Pidge said with a soft smile.  <em>“That was a tactical error.  What were you doing right before the wailing started?”</em></p>
<p>“I fed her and she seemed fine but then she started to cry again, so I changed her and I rocked her but nothing works!”</p>
<p><em>“Okay, I think I know what the problem is.”</em>  Pidge sat up straighter in wherever she was.  It looked like the living room in her apartment, and Kuro was gratified to see that she was wearing her necklace that he’d given her.  <em>“Put Hiyoko on your shoulder and pat her back.”</em></p>
<p>Kuro did so.  The crying tapered off and then Hiyoko cooed.  “I can’t believe I forgot to bring up her wind.”</p>
<p>Pidge looked equally happy to see her ring on Kuro’s finger.  Kuro wore it everywhere, except to some of his classes because some instructors made everyone take off removable jewelry and he didn’t want to chance it falling out of his duffel.</p>
<p><em>“It’s an easy thing to forget.  I had to take care of one of those things for forty-eight hours back in high school.  Named it Rover.”</em>  She tilted her head as if reminiscing.  <em>“I know every hack there is in the book to taking care of an infant simulator and I’ll teach you them all, but first I need to run something past you.”</em></p>
<p>Kuro sat back against the pillows with Hiyoko still resting against his chest.  “Okay.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Your mother has given us her blessing to get married.”</em>
</p>
<p>Kuro sat up straight and Hiyoko almost fell down but he managed to catch her and lower her safely to the comforter in time to prevent another round of robotic baby sirens.  “Pidge that is wonderful news.  I don’t know how to describe what my feelings are, they are so mixed up.”</p>
<p>Pidge laughed wryly.  <em>“Glad I’m not the only one.  Your mom is hoping to see a claim mark on your neck by your next video, he seems to think it’ll make the internet wolf whistles go away.  Obviously I’m not going to do anything without your unequivocal consent, and I know how much dancing means to you so I don’t want to take you away from it if you don’t want to go.”</em></p>
<p>“Do they bother you?” Kuro asked.  “The internet wolf whistles.”</p>
<p><em>“They make my alpha feel all prickly and protective,”</em> Pidge admitted, <em>“but I got it under control.”</em></p>
<p>Kuro felt a swell of pride in his alpha.  “I am back in karate training at Ani’s dojo.  I can kick any butts that need to be kicked.”</p>
<p>Pidge grinned.  <em>“Glad to hear it.”</em></p>
<p>“I want to finish my semester here,” Kuro said.  “I am learning so much.  Then I will only have one more semester in Tokyo before I have my degree, and after that,” he looked up at Pidge shyly from underneath his lashes, “Los Angeles is one of the world’s major entertainment centers.  It seems like a good place for a dancer to seek work.”</p>
<p>Pidge beamed back at him through the FaceTime window.  <em>“I’ll be over halfway through my undergrad degree.  If my apartment is too small for us we could qualify for family housing as a married couple.”</em></p>
<p>“Oh, Pidge!”  Kuro bounced on the bed and Hiyoko garbled out a warning cry.  “We could get married in the Ox year and not have to wait for the Dragon!”</p>
<p>They celebrated over the FaceTime call before Pidge got down to business teaching Kuro how to ensure that Hiyoko was always appeased, and planning her next visit.  Pidge would come to New York again between her Spring and Summer semesters and once more stay in one of Ani’s guest rooms.  Then they could further their plans for a wedding that would be arriving sooner than either of them could have hoped.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Macidus stood over the man in the medically induced coma laid out on a gurney inside an antibacterial acrylic curtain.  “You know if we keep him like this for too long he might never wake up.”</p>
<p>Maahox stared down at the slack face of Zarkon Manigford.  “That would be my preference, in truth.”</p>
<p>Macidus shrugged.  “Okay, just checking.”  Then he started his prep to take the first bone marrow aspiration.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The party of adventurers once again ran through a night time forest.  Only this time, they weren’t running from evil aligned characters or magical foes set loose by a curse.  This time it was a plain old bear.  Well, it wasn’t really plain anymore.</p>
<p><em>“Who left the food packs outside of the tent?”</em>  Block ran along right behind Thunderstorm and it was obvious from the way he held his hands out that he was thinking of picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder because despite the egg being relatively safe inside the belted pouch, Thunderstorm was still running gingerly to avoid jostling it.</p>
<p><em>“I think it was me!”</em>  Ada ran with Valayun shadowing her in a similar fashion.  <em>“I must have fallen asleep, I’m so sorry!”</em></p>
<p>“It hardly matters now!”  Paladin Be’a’hero ran behind Pike, whose belly now had its own sound effect.  Pike couldn’t take refuge under his invisibility cloak because the bear would be able to smell him regardless, so strong had the kittens made his scent.  Be’a’hero would probably lose hit points trying to pick up Pike, so it was a good thing that he read the maps more consistently and thoroughly than the others did most of the time.  “We have to make it over that ridge!  The Cave of Uncomfortable Sleep is just on the other side!”</p>
<p><em>“How do you know the bear won’t join us?”</em> Thunderstorm asked.</p>
<p>“Because the bear does not have opposable thumbs!”  </p>
<p>Manual dexterity was required to drop from the outcropping to the cave floor.  Their party had been beset by strange luck and required every edge that they could find, even if that happened to be a  literal edge.  When the bear had lumbered into their camp surprising them as they were all preparing for the day’s adventure, Thunderstorm had attempted to roll for stealth and instead accidentally turned the bear invisible.  At least they could still hear him bellowing and crashing through the trees behind them.  Since the bear could no longer see his enormous paws, he seemed to be tripping over them a lot.  Be’a’hero was confident that if the bear attempted to spelunk the treacherous overhang, he’d wind up falling into the gorge instead.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna die!” Pike hollered, still running and making that sproingy-boingy sound.</p>
<p>“No you’re not,” Be’a’hero scolded him, “I will lower you down myself if I have to.”</p>
<p>“Then you’re gonna die!”</p>
<p>“Do not be afraid Pike.”  Kurojishi ran up beside them.  “I can now levitate myself while casting a defensive spell.  I can watch your backs while you climb down!”</p>
<p><em>“What spell are you going to cast?”</em> asked Peacemaker skeptically over his shoulder.  He was easily outpacing everybody else.</p>
<p>“I’m going to tickle that bear!”</p>
<p>Shiro and Lance both looked up from their computer screens at Kuro, who smiled back at them beatifically.  They were all sitting in the nursery on the faded rose rug.  Atlas lounged against Kuro’s side, tail flicking in warning whenever Lance’s or Shiro’s eyes landed on him.  It seemed he would not soon forget the surprise bassinet attack which had happened in this very room.</p>
<p>“I mean, it could work,” Lance said hopefully.</p>
<p>Just then the running party’s hair blew back from the force of a huge pair of powerful wings as a gryphon emerged from the far side of the ridge with a shriek.  The mighty creature dropped to the ground at their backs while they were all still fighting their own momentum to turn and react to its presence, and it was only the glint of silver and orange barding that let them know that this gryphon was not unfamiliar to them and was therefore probably not going to eat them.  This moment’s recognition stopped several of their hands before they could launch surprise attacks of their own.</p>
<p><em>“Turn back now bear, if ye would live,”</em> called out the gryphon’s rider in a voice that reverberated with the strength of a confident challenger.  Sitting astride the intimidating beast was a knight in silver armor and an orange surcoat, with a crossbow raised to show he meant business.  It was Sir Ainmeil, Knight of the Most Holy Order of the Flying Eremitics.</p>
<p><em>“I thought you had work?”</em> asked Matt, breaking character.</p>
<p><em>“False alarm, they’ll call me if they need me,”</em> Ryan replied, then in character, <em>“Bear!  Yield!”</em></p>
<p>The tree line trembled with the force of the bear trying to escape while its spatial awareness was severely hampered.  Be’a’hero was pretty sure that it was the arrival of the gryphon which had turned the tide, and not the knight’s challenge.  Ainmeil’s gryphon looked a mite peckish.</p>
<p><em>“Hey Ainmeil,”</em> Pidge broke in, <em>“Nice to see you, where’d you come from?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Moonfeather and I were camped out just over the ridge, in the cave,”</em> Ainmeil said.</p>
<p><em>“Oh?”</em>  Pidge sounded genuinely curious.  <em>“How was it?”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Uncomfortable.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, it’s good that you’re all wide awake and warmed up now, because have I got the adventure for you... ”</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Colleen preferred this conference room over the one she was usually requisitioned in the San Francisco field office building.  It had one way visibility windows on one side and there was enough room around the conference table for her to get up and pace, which she was doing as Thace wound down his report.  He and several other task force representatives were remoting in via web conference, in a virtual conference room being managed by an analyst at the end of the table.  Their serious faces on the wide screen monitor, reacting to Thace’s report as well as to documents the analyst was making remotely available to them, for some reason put Colleen in mind of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” video.  She closed her eyes to dispel the image.  It didn’t work.</p>
<p>“So the Missing Persons Bureau is involved now,” she said.</p>
<p><em>“Yes,”</em> Thace said.  <em>“They’re intending to issue a press release.”</em></p>
<p>Colleen nodded.  “We’ll start interviewing the Raible-Garretts in L.A. as soon as it airs.”</p>
<p>They knew there was a connection but they couldn’t legally do as much about it as they’d like.  However, as soon as it became public knowledge that Zarkon Manigford was officially missing, it would only be natural to want to see if his son’s in-laws knew anything that could be of help.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>The farther she drove into the San Fernando Valley, the more conspicuous Mary Ann felt in her six year-old beloved Honda Civic.  Most of the other cars on the road were well-kept late model luxury vehicles, and the few that weren’t were traveling in the opposite direction, which was a reasonably good clue that they belonged to people who worked there but didn’t live there.</p>
<p>“It’s okay Henrietta.”  Mary Ann patted her car’s dash.  “I still love you.”</p>
<p>About a dozen or so miles south of her, Mary Ann’s own true love was beginning a shift catering to people who had more in common with the ones she was on her way to see than to Mary Ann herself.  She was proud of Lorn for landing that job and she couldn’t wait until the day when she could finally count on seeing him every night as they both came home from work.  She’d hoped that dealing a fatal blow to Macidus’s operation would make it safer for her to do that, but that jackass was still in the wind and the gang he’d employed was still on the loose.  Honestly she didn’t know how Colleen Holt had managed to raise a family while doing this job without having a nervous breakdown.  The thought of putting Lorn in danger from people she was assigned to put away kept her up at night.</p>
<p>Roland Garrett’s house sat on an acre of land sheltered by massive oak trees.  Mary Ann followed the winding drive all the way up to a gate surrounding a hacienda style house that made the modest California ranch style house she’d been shown by a realtor the day before look like a kid’s playhouse by comparison.  Mary Ann rolled down her window and pressed the intercom button to identify herself and request an audience.</p>
<p><em>“Hold your badge up for the camera please,”</em> said a man with an accent that Mary Ann couldn’t place.</p>
<p>She held up her badge.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Very good madame.  You may proceed to guest parking and I will greet you at the front door.”</em>
</p>
<p>He’d probably be tracking her approach on CCTV.  Mary Ann drove Henrietta through the opening gates, past a manicured garden and up to a concrete pad with a sign that declared to all comers that this was private property and that this lot was for authorized visitors only.  Residents and house guests must be using the garage she’d spotted on the blueprints she’d pulled as recon before driving out here, and she wondered if Amue Herakles’s missing RV was taking up space in there too these days.  Mary Ann locked Henrietta and engaged the alarm before walking up the stone pathway to the wide front veranda.  She pressed the doorbell and heard the chimes ring from deep inside the house.  The man who opened the carved wooden door was tall, broad and of advanced enough of an age that his hair and neatly trimmed beard were snow white, but still hale enough to cut an imposing figure in his butler’s uniform.</p>
<p>“I am Oolumon,” he said.  “Mrs. Garrett will see you in the main living room.”</p>
<p>Leaning into the marriage connection and away from the grandpa connection, was she?  Mary Ann followed Oolumon through the formal receiving rooms with their crystal chandeliers and antique carpets, down a wide hallway that seemed to have an excessive amount of furniture in it (who was kept waiting in this hall for long enough to need to sit down?) and into an expansive living room with a stacked stone fireplace and gleaming mesquite flooring.  Floor to ceiling windows along one wall showed peeks of the lap pool through the cracked open blinds.</p>
<p>The room’s lone occupant strode forward gracefully atop killer heels.  Her elegantly draped cocktail dress set off both her cool blonde coloring and the crushed velvet couches arrayed around a glass cocktail table.  Talk about taking accessorizing to an extreme.</p>
<p>“Raiza Garrett,” she introduced herself, one hand out.  “How do you do.”</p>
<p>Leaning heavily into the marriage connection and trying to take control of the conversation right out of the gate.  “Agent Caspian.”  Mary Ann accepted the hand clasp, but not the subtle insinuation that she should let Raiza ask the questions.  “Pleasure.”  She wasn’t the sort of alpha who automatically assumed all omegas were weak or stupid.  In her opinion, such alphas were only good for being patsies.</p>
<p>“Oolumon, bring us coffee if you please.”</p>
<p>So Raiza was giving up on the ‘you should be nice to me’ approach and aiming for a ‘this is my house and you’ll do what I like while you’re in it’ approach.  If she thought that was going to dissuade Mary Ann from her line of inquiry, she’d soon find out otherwise.  Oolumon scuttled off to buttle them some coffee and Raiza invited Mary Ann to take a seat on the couch adjacent to the one she was sitting on.</p>
<p>“My son-in-law has called to inform me that his father has taken a flit,” Raiza said once they were both comfortably ensconced in a couch apiece.  “It’s a shame that they’re on such acrimonious terms that Zarkon would feel the need to worry us all in this way.”</p>
<p>“So you think this is a bid for attention.”</p>
<p>Oolumon rolled back in wearing an apron and pushing a beverage service cart.</p>
<p>“Zarkon is well known to enjoy being the center of it,” Raiza said, eyes on Oolumon as he poured from a carafe into fine china.  “Disappearing from public life in order to get everyone worked up and talking about him would be in character.”</p>
<p>Mary Ann considered that as she watched Oolumon pour her own coffee from the same carafe.  Zarkon Manigford did have a reputation for pomposity, but his character was known to be more confrontational that what Raiza was suggesting.  She took a sip from her cup.</p>
<p>“How is the coffee?” Raiza asked.</p>
<p>“Excellent,” Mary Ann admitted.</p>
<p>“Sugar or cream?”</p>
<p>“No thank you.”  </p>
<p>Coffee of this quality didn’t need it, and besides which, she’d noticed Raiza hadn’t taken any either.  Raiza sent Oolumon away again.  Mary Ann decided to pursue another tack.</p>
<p>“The law enforcement agency who has asked us for assistance in this matter has told us that Zarkon may have intended to come here looking for someone.”</p>
<p>Raiza’s eyes flickered down to her hands clutching the coffee saucer and cup.  “I have no idea what he could think to discover here.  His son and grandson both reside overseas, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”</p>
<p>“There have been rumors that Lotor has a love child living somewhere in this area.”  Mary Ann took another sip of her coffee without taking her eyes off of Raiza.  “Or love children.”</p>
<p>Mary Ann knew that all three of the children Zarkon would possess any interest in whatsoever resided significantly north of that area.  What she wanted to know was whether Raiza had a clue about that.</p>
<p>Raiza’s eyes flickered again, this time to the window and back.  She knew about Lora Herakles, she had to.  The task force had reason to believe she also knew at least a little about Acxa Price’s children.  If the seed Mary Ann had just planted took root, a search would soon be on all over the Greater Los Angeles area looking for babies who did not live there.  Not only did that have value as a wild goose chase, tracing the players could give them a better idea of just how far the Raibles’ reach really extended.</p>
<p>“Everyone knew that Lotor stepped out on Acxa, poor thing.”  Raiza trained bright eyes on Mary Ann’s face, watching for any reactions.  “If there are children resulting from those affairs they wouldn’t be legitimate.”</p>
<p>She was trying to provoke Mary Ann into revealing the existence of Price’s twins.  Maybe it was time for some provocation of her own.</p>
<p>“You’re not worried that Lotor will step out on your son?”</p>
<p>“Lotor has demonstrated a sincere desire to change.”  Raiza raised her well-sculpted chin like a woman about to get up on her soap box.  “I believe that a person who wishes to change is entitled to the chance.”</p>
<p>Mary Ann mused that Raiza’s late first husband must not have wanted to change and wondered if the same fate might befall Lotor Manigford if he changed his mind and fell back on old habits.  She chose not to push that button, as there was another question she wanted answered before she inevitably got kicked out of this house.</p>
<p>“Is it possible that your husband became concerned enough about Lotor’s history that he would try to intercept Zarkon to speak with him about it?”</p>
<p>“My husband?”  Raiza’s beautifully made up face went carefully blank.  “What on Earth could Roland possibly have to do with any of this?”</p>
<p>Interesting reaction.  “His yacht was seen in the harbor near the vacation house where Zarkon disappeared.”</p>
<p>Momentary panic gone in a flash, followed quickly by anger which she allowed to remain, but Raiza’s well-schooled features couldn’t hide the lingering stink of her fear.  “Just what are you insinuating?”</p>
<p>“I’m merely asking a question.”</p>
<p>“I believe I’m done answering them.”  Raiza stood.  “Agent.  I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but it has not been.  My daughter will be home from day school any moment and I would like for you to be gone before she arrives.”</p>
<p>Mary Ann stood as well.  “My apologies for any offense, and good day to you.”</p>
<p>“Oolumon will see you out.”</p>
<p>The butler led her swiftly out the door and watched her until her car was once more past the gate, but Mary Ann was not disappointed with the outcome of the interview, for she’d gotten more than she’d hoped for.  It seemed that Raiza Garrett had not been in on at least part of the plan, and she was not happy to find out about that part.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Raiza hurried into Roland’s office and shut the door behind her.  Leda was away at a track and field meet and would be going on a sleepover with members of her team afterwards.  Roland was at a production design meeting in Burbank.  Raiza would have the entire house to herself for several hours at least, aside from the staff.  She circled around the large half-circle desk, past the shelves full of books Roland was thinking of optioning, and dropped into the task chair.</p>
<p>She picked up the phone and dialed an international number she knew by heart.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Greetings and salutations.”</em>
</p>
<p>“It’s me.”  Raiza took a second to gather her wits while her great grandfather simply waited on the other end of the line.  “Tell me you didn’t implicate my husband in whatever you are doing with my son’s father-in-law.”</p>
<p><em>“I merely borrowed an object of his,”</em> Maahox said, <em>“that is all.  He only needs to account for his whereabouts for the time that the item was borrowed and he will be fully exonerated.  My little sun, do not worry.  I am doing all of this for you!”</em></p>
<p>Raiza tried to calm her racing heart and speeding thoughts.  She had wanted Zarkon to disappear, it was true.  She even had an idea of what her grandfather was up to, knowing his peculiar talents and the reputation of the man he’d taken away with him when he’d last visited.  Roland was indirectly involved in many of these goings-on, unavoidably so, but he was never supposed to be the first name on an investigating agent’s tongue.  He was supposed to have plausible deniability, always.  This latest caper pulled off by Grandfather Maahox in the interests of protecting little Sincline’s inheritance put Leda’s father at the center of the authorities’ attention to a greater extent than Raiza had ever imagined was possible, and potentially liable to a degree that had probably not occurred to Grandfather when he'd done his deed.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Shiro was very attached to the Rolls-Royce Phantom.  It was comfortable, it was beautiful, it made the impression he wanted to make wherever he went in it.  It was usually big enough to carry as many people as he needed for it to carry, and Kai drove it like a dream.  It even had child safety locks and car seat tethers in it.  However, when he and Lance had tried to install their new Doona car seat into the back, they’d discovered that just because a car has car seat tethers in it does not mean that the car seat won’t be an almighty hassle to get in there.</p>
<p>Firstly, the suicide doors had to be all the way open for a full grown adult to have a hope of leaning in far enough to properly latch and tighten the car seat.  Who knew that it would take blocking a lane in the carriage house parking garage while a neighbor in a Porsche honked at him in order to get those doors open all the way?  Then Shiro started to ponder on why they were called suicide doors and whether children ought to be riding in a vehicle which had said named doors.  Finally though, it became apparent that the car seat was going to take up an entire seat, edging over into the console seat if they installed it with the base, so that whenever Shiro took Lance and the baby anywhere together they’d be riding in the back and Shiro would be riding in the front with Kai, and everybody else would have to hail taxis.  Kai tried valiantly not to laugh when Lance pointed out that the cream colored interior was going to be difficult to keep clean if they had a baby riding around in it.</p>
<p>So now they were at a Toyota dealership test driving potential babymobiles.  They were not getting rid of the Rolls.  Lance loved it every bit as much as Shiro did, and it was incredibly useful having Kai on call to take members of the household wherever they needed to go or pick them up in a pinch.  But Shiro had been worrying about what would happen if Kai was busy with Shiro or Kuro when Lance also needed to be somewhere.  He dreaded the thought of Lance going into rapid labor and having to wait for a taxi if the Rolls was clear across town.  With his mother coming into town soon, she would be able to escort him to the hospital if Shiro wasn’t home, but there would still need to be a car available for them to use.</p>
<p>Lance wanted a sedan suitable for city driving, so Shiro did his research and found several models of Toyota with respectable safety ratings specific to children.  They’d tested the Camry, the Avalon, and the Prius Prime, and they’d come back around to the Camry, only this time they were testing the hybrid in an XLE trim.  Shiro cruised back into the car lot, appreciating the quiet cabin.  Sure it wasn’t as smooth a ride as the Rolls could provide, but not much could hope to be.  What this car did have was a comprehensive array of safety sensors which made Shiro feel much better about the prospect of Lance’s mother driving through a city unfamiliar to her while he labored in the back seat.</p>
<p>Shiro coasted to a stop and looked in the rear view mirror at Lance sitting calmly in the back seat next to the Doona without its base, which their sales associate had been agreeable about allowing them to test out.  The car seat had latched into the tethers with ease and had not loosened on the test drive.  Lance smiled at Shiro and gave him a thumbs up.  Both of them happy with the choice, they handed the keys back to the sales associate and went inside to pick out the colors and other extras they wanted on their vehicle, which they’d been assured could be delivered within five weeks.</p>
<p>As they were following their sales associate across the showroom floor, they walked past a tall blonde alpha in a black sundress yelling at another sales associate about her lease agreement.  Apparently she was trying to turn in her three year-old Supra for the latest model, but the leased car had excessive wear on it.  Shiro would have preferred not to eavesdrop on the poor sales associate’s suffering, but the customer was making it too loud for him not to overhear.  Then he realized that the alpha was none other than Jain Rao.  He hadn’t recognized her immediately on account of the leathery summer tan.  He quickly turned his head hoping to get past her without being noticed, but it was too late.</p>
<p>“Takashi Shirogane, as I live and breathe!”  Jain interrupted her own tirade, much to the visible relief of the sales associate.  “And Lance too!  My goodness, you’re ready to pop!  Have you enrolled the tyke in a Baby Ivy yet?”</p>
<p>“Baby Ivy?”  Lance was innocently confused.</p>
<p>Shiro was not.  “We’re focused on getting her potty trained before we worry about that.”</p>
<p>Jain responded with an exaggerated laugh and point.  “Good one.”  </p>
<p>Now she’d gossip that the baby was a girl to whomever cared, which would be nobody he cared about.  There were some archaic fools who still viewed a baby boy as better news than a baby girl because boys had a two in three chance of being able to pass on the family name, while girls only had a one in three chance.  But she left him alone, so mission still successful.  He’d hoped Lance would also let it go, but he should have known better.  Lance brought it up as soon as they were on the way home in the back of the limo.</p>
<p>“What’s a Baby Ivy?”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing to be worried about right now,” Shiro said.  “They’re expensive and exclusive nursery schools, but people take them seriously because they’re known to be feeder schools.”</p>
<p>“Feeder schools?”</p>
<p>“Alumni of the Baby Ivies have better odds of getting into the best private schools in the city.  Then from there, they have better odds of getting into Ivy League colleges.”  Shiro took one of Lance’s hands in his.  “It’s not an exact science.  Plenty of people get into good schools without going to a Baby Ivy first.”</p>
<p>“How young are these children going to Baby Ivies?”  Lance looked bowled over.  “She was asking if we already had her enrolled!”</p>
<p>“Most of the people I’ve met who went to one started at around age two or three, and honestly Lance, most people don’t start campaigning for an application until their child is one year old, only the most diehard parents hire advisors to give them an edge while the kid is still in utero.”</p>
<p>“I have to put mi hija in a day school while she is still a niñita?”  Lance held his free arm protectively around his belly.</p>
<p>“Midori will not need to take the entrance exam for tanpopo kindergarten at the Friends Academy until she is thirty months old,” Kai spoke up from the front seat.  “Perhaps Carolína can do the same?  I am sure she would thrive there too.”</p>
<p>Kai meant well with the suggestion, and Shiro was honestly touched.  What was known as kindergarten in Japan was actually for children aged three through five.  The school Kai and Haruka were planning on sending Midori to complied with the requirements set out by the Japanese Ministry of Education, ensuring a relatively smooth transition if they should decide to take her back to Japan while she was still of compulsory school age.  There was less chance of Carolína ever needing to make a similar adjustment during her school career, but the thought of his daughter having a formative experience similar to his own that they could share together gave Shiro a warm feeling inside.</p>
<p>Lance tried to smile as he thanked Kai for thinking so well of them, but Shiro could tell that he was still troubled.  He realized that for all of the planning they’d done to bring Carolína into their house, they hadn’t yet done much planning for how to usher her into eventual life in a household of her own.  It was such a difficult thing to think of when they hadn’t even gotten to see her little face yet.</p>
<p>“Did you go to a preschool?” Shiro asked of Lance.  He’d reacted so strongly to the idea of letting Carolína out of his sight while she was still a toddler.</p>
<p>“I was in the Educa a Tu Hijo program from the time I could walk until first grade,” Lance said.  “It was twice a week in the park, meeting with an early education teacher and other kids from the neighborhood.  If Mamá was at work then Mima or Pipo would take me.  It was fun, but one of my primary caregivers was always there too, you know?  I don’t know how I feel about letting Caro spend all day away from me while she’s still tiny.”</p>
<p>Shiro squeezed Lance’s hand.  “We don’t have to decide anything right away.  There’s still time.”</p>
<p>“Well I do know one thing,” Lance said, squeezing back.  “Little sisters want to do whatever their big sisters are doing, so it’s a good bet Caro will want to go to school wherever Midori goes.”</p>
<p>Shiro kissed his face gratefully.  Carolína would eventually need to switch schools because he didn’t intend on moving her out of the country and the school calendars were very different, but preschool in a setting that nourished a cultural connection to the land of his own birth sounded like a positive place to start.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Kuro’s advisor Hiba led him over to the corner desk she occupied in the student advising office.  “I told him that what he was asking for was not our usual process, but he was so insistent, and I thought perhaps there was a cultural aspect to his request that I was missing, so that’s why I came and got you.”  Hiba had pulled Kuro out of class to talk to this talent scout.  “He’s calling from Japan and he refused to leave a message with us, just kept asking to speak to you personally.  Ward, have you been able to confirm he’s actually calling from Dollhouse?”</p>
<p>“Confirmed.”  The administrative assistant who manned the front desk leaned back in his chair to be seen around Hiba’s desk partition.  “I talked to their receptionist.  They said the guy’s with them.”</p>
<p>“Okay, thanks Ward.  Kuro, he can’t see or hear us yet, so I’m going to ask you if you want me to stay in the room with you or wait outside.”  Hiba had the webcam cover slid shut and her mic muted, but Kuro could now see on her monitor the strangely dressed omega who used to hang around in the hallways at his school in Tokyo.  “Ward has to stay at his post, but he can run interference if you need him to.”</p>
<p>“Say the word,” said Ward, back out of sight but not out of earshot.</p>
<p>Kuro stared at the man on the monitor, who appeared to be touching up his hair in the reflection on his end.  “I have never been introduced to this Dai Rin, but I do recognize him.  I don’t mind speaking to him, I won’t trouble you to wait on me.”</p>
<p>“If you’re certain.”  Hiba hovered.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Kuro assured her.</p>
<p>Hiba left him to it, so Kuro unmuted and opened the webcam cover.</p>
<p><em>“Ohayou, Shirogane-chan!”</em>  Dai Rin bobbed his head in greeting with a big smile on his face.  <em>｢It is very good to see you looking so beautiful and well!｣</em></p>
<p>“Ohayou gozaimasu,” Kuro responded with an answering head bob.  He was a bit taken aback at the man’s forwardness, but did not view that as a valid excuse to let his own manners slip.  ｢It is very nice to meet you.  Hiba-san said that you wished to speak with me about a professional opportunity?｣</p>
<p>｢<em>Yes, I saw your most recent dance video.  It was most impressive.  I would not have believed that guilelessness and sultriness could be portrayed by the same performer in that way, but you pulled it off.  It is because of this that I wish to offer you the role of the Fallen Angel in our newest Idol group.  The opportunity to save you from temptation will have the fans flocking to show their support.  It’s a once in a lifetime chance!  What do you say?｣</em></p>
<p>What was a person supposed to say to any of that?  ｢I am honored that you would consider me so early in the audition process.  I am afraid that my audition would have to be done by video unless you are able to see me in August.｣</p>
<p><em>｢Early?｣</em> Dai Rin looked confused.  <em>｢August?  No, you misunderstand me, Shirogane-chan.  You have the role, all you need to do is sign all of the paperwork.  We need you back here immediately to begin training with your fellow idols.｣</em></p>
<p>Immediately?  ｢But, I am already in training, here in New York, and I have one more semester of training to complete in Tokyo afterwards.｣</p>
<p><em>｢You won’t be needing any of that.｣</em> Dai Rin waved a hand as if banish the thought.  <em>｢You will be boarded at our training facility.  We will take the costs out of your income automatically, you needn’t worry about a thing.  We will teach you everything you need to know.｣</em></p>
<p>Kuro was stunned.  ｢For how long would I live and train at this facility?｣</p>
<p>
  <em>｢Three years, with an opportunity to renew your contract if you prove popular enough, and a six month non-compete clause if you seek to terminate the business relationship.｣</em>
</p>
<p>｢Six months seems like a long time to wait before taking other jobs.｣ If Kuro really did build up a fanbase, it could be catastrophically long.</p>
<p><em>｢We have to consider the needs of the business.｣</em> The needs of the performer did not seem to overly concern Dai Rin.</p>
<p>｢I would not wish to live at a boarding facility for three years.｣ Kuro wanted to make that point abundantly clear.  ｢I am getting married next year and at that point in time I will wish to live with my alpha.｣</p>
<p><em>｢Married!｣</em> Dai Rin finally looked shocked by something Kuro said.  <em>｢Alpha!  No, there must be no suitors of any kind, our Fallen Angel must remain pure!｣</em></p>
<p>That sounded ludicrous to Kuro.  ｢What you have just said is contradictory to itself.｣</p>
<p><em>｢We can offer you a one year contract, but that would be our final offer.｣</em> Dai Rin was as persistent as Hiba had said he was.</p>
<p>｢Would this contract still involve a non-compete clause and prohibit me from seeing my alpha?｣</p>
<p>
  <em>｢Yes.  We cannot have idols stepping all over our reputation on their way to the top.  If they find success with us, their success should remain with us.  Obviously if they are unsuccessful then we would terminate the business relationship.  There would be no reason to pursue a non-compete clause for a failure.  But Shirogane-chan, I am sure that you can be successful for us.  You simply have to follow the rules and the training regimen.  One of the most important rules is no suitors.  If your fans think you are unavailable to date, they will not support you.｣</em>
</p>
<p>Kuro thought Dai Rin was still missing the point.  ｢I am unavailable to date.｣</p>
<p>
  <em>｢Of course you’re not available.  But the fans must be allowed to think that you are.｣</em>
</p>
<p>Kuro had heard that show business was a world of smoke and mirrors, but this did not feel right.  To never see Pidge or acknowledge her existence for a whole year, all to fool strangers into thinking he might like to court them?  He clenched his fist and felt the cool metal of the ring Pidge had given him between his fingers.</p>
<p>｢Rin-san, I humbly thank you for your consideration, but I am afraid I am unable to accept this offer.｣</p>
<p>Kuro bowed respectfully, and when he saw that Dai Rin was not nodding in acknowledgment but gearing up for a counter-argument, he hung up on the man.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Month Eight: Got to Be Real</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Both couples continue with childbirth education classes.  Pidge pays a visit.  Tatsuo sticks his foot in his mouth and then tries to make up for it.  Honerva sends Merla out on an errand.  Narti and Acxa get ready for a confrontation.  Father's Day arrives, and then so does Lance's mother.  Pidge and Kuro make a few decisions.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We're getting close to the end, and I want to thank everybody once more for reading, kudoing and commenting.  Thanks so much, you guys!  :)  You're all the best.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>“Whoa, there’s a foot.”</p><p>Nurse Ware paused in moving the transducer around Keith’s stomach as a little foot shape emerged out of his flesh.</p><p>Keith grinned.  “Yeah, he’s been doing that a lot lately.”</p><p>“It might be getting crowded in there,” Doctor Page said, reminding everybody of the purpose of this sonogram.  They were checking Sunny’s size and position in relation to the placenta, as well as the level of amniotic fluid left.</p><p>“So Sunny’s really viable now?” Hunk asked worriedly from his position next to the head of the ultrasound table Keith was lying on.</p><p>“He’d have to go to the NICU,” Doctor Page responded, “but he’d stand a fighting chance, yes.”</p><p>On the monitor, Keith’s heartbeat appeared in a graph, with Sunny’s heartbeat a series of shorter peaks alongside of it.  Then the profile of their baby appeared, folded into the curled position that they’d seen before on countless diagrams in baby books and in the waiting room.  The little heart thump-a-thumped, little legs and arms flexing languidly.</p><p>“Well it looks like we won’t be going to the surgical suite today,” Doctor Page said, sounding relieved as numerical graphs began populating on the monitor.  “He’s still got enough amniotic fluid that I feel confident you’ll be able to bring him full term.  The placenta is in a good position, and he’s head down.”  Doctor Page pointed out the blob on the monitor that was apparently the placenta.  “I’d rather see him facing your spine, but there’s still time for him to squirm around.  He’s forty-two centimeters and about four pounds, you’ve got a future linebacker in there.  Are you feeling any shortness of breath?”</p><p>“A little,” Keith admitted.  It really only bothered him when he tried to climb stairs.</p><p>Doctor Page nodded and wrote in his notebook.  “He’s getting big enough now that you’re going to feel him compressing your inner organs.  I’m going to recommend that you take the full four weeks of paid DI prior to your due date.  I’d rather you took a leave sooner than that, but I don’t think another couple of weeks at work is going to hurt you or the baby as long as you avoid long periods of standing or strenuous activity.”</p><p>Keith looked away from the doctor and up at Hunk.  “I don’t want to be stuck in the house yet.”</p><p>“I don’t think it’ll be too hard to persuade Ilun to have you organize her employee reviews,” Hunk promised.  “She’ll need to use that data in just a few weeks.”</p><p>Lorn was soon going to have all the hours he wanted, but he was still just one dude.  Ilun was going to need to bite the bullet and promote some people out of probationary status.</p><p>“Are you ready to see your baby in 4D?” Doctor Page asked.</p><p>“Yes!” Keith said eagerly.</p><p>The image shifted from translucent black and white to solid looking waxy shapes, only this time instead of looking at stills they were looking at Sunny in motion.  The image focused on a recognizable foot with little toes before Nurse Ware moved the transducer around again, looking for another angle.  The image shifted back and forth between the 2D and 4D as he searched for a good image of Sunny’s face.  Finally he found one and paused there as they watched Sunny make faces at them in his watery world.</p><p>Keith laughed.  “He looks like a Manabu.”</p><p>Hunk kissed his cheek.  “I think we kind of knew that he would.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Is this too cold?”</p><p>Ritsuko had noticed the dry skin on Lance’s belly.</p><p>“No, that actually feels nice.”</p><p>Lance had been moisturizing with cocoa butter and showering with oatmeal soap, but his belly still felt itchy lately.  The aloe vera gel he’d brought home on his most recent pharmacy run would be his next attempt at de-itchifying, and if that didn’t work he didn’t know what to try.</p><p>“Some mothers like Calamine lotion to soothe the stretching belly,” Ritsuko said as she moved the transducer through the gel.  She had her brother’s adeptness at correctly guessing what was on other people’s minds.</p><p>“Thanks for the tip.”  He’d definitely try that if the aloe didn’t work.</p><p>“It is no trouble.”  Ritsuko smiled as data began crawling across the monitor.  “Heart rate is excellent for both mother and child.  AFI, MPV and UA are all within healthy parameters.  Baby is head down in birth position, which is not unusual to see before the drop.”  Now they could see Carolína’s squirming little figure on the monitor.  “Let’s have a look at those bones.”</p><p>
  <em>♪  Well your head bone connected from your neck bone  ♪</em>
</p><p>Lance looked up at Shiro, whose apologetic expression confirmed for him that yes, that earworm was coming from him through the bond.  The ultrasound showed the beautiful egg shape of the top of Carolína’s skull as Ritsuko measured her head’s diameter and circumference.  She moved the transducer again and paused to measure the circumference of her abdomen.</p><p>
  <em>♪  Your back bone connected from your hip bone  ♪</em>
</p><p>Finally she zoomed in on a tiny femur, noticeably thicker than the other white bones showing up on the scan at this magnification.</p><p>
  <em>♪  Your hip bone connected from your thigh bone  ♪</em>
</p><p>Lance was ready for Shiro to stop that at any time, really.</p><p>“Baby is a healthy size for her gestational age,” Ritsuko said, to the relief of both parents.  “Let’s have another look with 4D, shall we?”</p><p>“Please,” Shiro confirmed as Lance nodded.</p><p>Then they were looking at their squirming child in three dimensions on the monitor.</p><p>“Posterior placenta, that will make childbirth less complicated,” Ritsuko said, pointing out the flat, round shape on the monitor near Carolína’s tiny toes.  “Umbilical cord insertion looks normal.  She’s awake, maybe we can see her face.”  </p><p>She moved the transducer around the side of Lance’s belly as the image went back to Doppler, then back again to 4D.  Carolína’s rounded features appeared out of the darkness, scrunching into what looked like a kissy face.  </p><p>“Babies start practicing facial expressions and take practice breaths of amniotic fluid at this stage,” Ritsuko explained.</p><p>Then Carolína stuck a little hand up in front of her face, making her parents laugh.</p><p>“Guess the attitude must be genetic,” Shiro joked.</p><p>“Whose attitude?” Lance smirked.  “Mine, or yours?”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“The baby’s head is engaged when it drops down into the pelvis.”  Nurse Lahn demonstrated by holding a baby doll upside down and slowly lowering it into a model of the pelvic bones.  “You will feel the pressure letting you know that this is happening.  It may feel like you need to go to the bathroom.”</p><p>Hunk and Keith studiously took notes.  Keith started drawing a diagram of it in their shared notebook.  Hunk recognized the shape of the pelvic ring but then Keith started drawing lines all around it and he wasn’t sure what he was looking at.</p><p>“What’s that?” he asked, tapping the paper.</p><p>“I’m drawing all the goosh that he’s not showing us,” Keith replied.</p><p>“Oh.”  Hunk thought it looked kind of like a windy cave.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Braxton Hicks contractions are practice contractions that tighten your womb and generally do not hurt,” said Nurse Nahla.  “Sometimes they’ll come on if you’re dehydrated, so try having something to drink and see if they ease off.”</p><p>“Do we have enough Aquarius Peach?” Shiro asked, softly so as not to speak over the instructor.  He’d been having the sports drink special ordered and shipped from Japan by the crate, increasing the frequency of his orders since Kuro had joined them.</p><p>“Of course we do,” Lance replied.  “Pidge is coming for another visit, remember?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah.”  Pidge liked any and all kinds of sports drinks.  Haruka would have made sure they were well stocked in advance of–   “Wait, already?  I thought we had a couple weeks yet?”</p><p>“No querido, her plane is arriving the day after tomorrow.”</p><p>How could that have slipped his mind?  “Does she need us to pick her up from the airport?”</p><p>“No, she said she’s going to take an Uber.”</p><p>That was how it had slipped his mind.</p><p>“That’s just silly, I’m picking her up.”</p><p>Pidge could flex her independence in more useful ways than spending money on a car when it wasn’t necessary.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Pidge would have been lying if she’d said she wasn’t relieved to see Shiro standing by the luggage carousel with his handcart.  She’d sprung the couple extra bucks for a non-stop flight on a low cost airline, but that was still over five hours flying coach with nothing but a can of cola and a bag of pretzels to sustain her caloric needs.  If she’d really had to wait for an Uber she might have wound up getting hangry at somebody.</p><p>“Thanks for coming to get me,” she said as she walked over.  “You didn’t need to bring the handcart though, I’m traveling light this time.”  </p><p>She had her little hard-sided spinner in one hand and her laptop case in the other, which she hiked over her shoulder as she scanned the carousel for her one checked bag.  There it was.  That old high school duffel patch-repaired with band and game stickers had seen her through many a debate tournament and away game.</p><p>Shiro recognized it too, picking it up off the carousel unasked and putting it on the handcart.  “This thing weights fifty pounds.”</p><p>“I could have handled it,” Pidge said.  She was still glad she didn’t have to, though.</p><p>Shiro called Kai to meet them as they took the walkway out of the terminal.  The limo rolled up and they got in.  Shiro had snacks stowed in the back seat console, and Pidge wouldn’t even tease him for stocking truffle chips and sparkling water, she was so hungry.</p><p>Well, maybe she’d rib him just a little bit.  “When are you going to be swapping these out for Cheerios and juice boxes?”</p><p>“About six weeks?”  Shiro’s smile turned fragile as glass.  “I can’t believe it’s coming up so fast.”</p><p>“Congrats.”  Pidge reached over and patted his shoulder.  “Say, while we’re talking about life-changing events, is it okay if I marry your little brother?”</p><p>Kai hitting a speed bump slightly too fast was the only sign that this might be a shocking announcement to anyone.  Shiro just stared at her, brow pinched in befuddlement.</p><p>“I thought you two were already engaged?”</p><p>“We are,” Pidge nodded, “but your stepmonster is leaning on me to move up the timetable.  Kuro and I talked it over and we’d like to get married in the Year of the Ox.  Maybe in June.”  Pidge smiled at the mental picture of Kuro standing under boughs of bright summer flowers.  It was only a year away.  “The thing is, I think Tatsuo wants us to be married before the next time Kuro appears in a dance video.”</p><p>“You and Kuro make your plans,” Shiro said firmly.  “Let me deal with Tatsuo.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Down in the adjacent field, the land had been excavated and the posts had been filled.  The foundation had been poured, stabilized, and reinforced.  Soon the plumbing and drainage system would be installed.  Shinji happened to look up from his conversation with Yasuo and spot Tatsuo standing up there looking out of the window.  He waved.  Tatsuo waved back.</p><p>Tatsuo’s phone rang out the melody of a FaceTime alert.  Finally.  Kuro’s alpha should have ensured his safety by now.  She’d waited a ridiculous amount of time to notify him of it.  Tatsuo answered the call and found himself staring at his stepson on the other side of the world instead of his daughter-in-law.</p><p>“Shiro-san.”  Tatsuo nodded in polite greeting.  “How is it that you have Pidgu-san’s iPad?”</p><p>Shiro blinked a moment.  Perhaps Pidge had not fully explained her purpose there and he’d assumed there would be a fight.  <em>“I borrowed it,”</em> he said.  <em>“Pidge is here,”</em> good, <em>“and she and Kuro have been discussing their wedding plans.”</em>  Even better.  <em>“I have let them know that I am in favor of them moving up the wedding date,”</em> not that it was really his business, <em>“however, in the interests of ensuring a proper yuino, I have asked them to schedule their wedding for late spring or early summer of next year.”</em></p><p>In the interests of..?  “You did not even have a proper yuino!”</p><p><em>“And I know how that pained you,”</em> Shiro said with such seriousness Tatsuo would have almost believed it had he not known already that the man could play the role of the fox as well as his father could.  <em>“With a wedding date set for next year we will have enough time to secure a fortunate date for both the yuino and the wedding.”</em></p><p>“Oh?”  Shiro was not the only one who could flick responsibilities in one’s face like ofuda.  “How are your plans for oshichiya coming along?”</p><p><em>“As well as can be, considering that the date is not written in stone.”</em>  But Shiro’s face could have been carved in it.</p><p>“You do not know the due date?”  Tatsuo found that hard to believe.</p><p>
  <em>“It’s July twenty-first, but babies come when they may.  The due date is merely a guideline.”</em>
</p><p>“Well that is fortunate for you,” Tatsuo said.  “If the baby really did come on July twenty-first, then you might have to induce or schedule a caesarean section to ensure your noontime window and avoid bad luck.  It’s a red mouth day, you know.  Perhaps the baby will choose a luckier day to be born.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Of all the superstitious nonsense.  Shiro scowled as he went back downstairs from his office to return Pidge’s iPad mini to her.  At least he’d succeeded in putting Tatsuo off from his latest bout of overprotective hysteria.  The others were in the rear parlor enjoying snacks and a movie together.  Shiro tapped Pidge on the shoulder from behind the couch and she took the tablet back with hardly a pause in her conversation with Kuro, who was sitting close to her on the same couch under the watchful gaze of Haruka.  Kai must have gone down to the garden apartment to watch over Midori.</p><p>Shiro smiled at his little brother’s youthful enthusiasm and turned to go brood all over a different room.  His furtive entry and exit did not go unnoticed.  Lance hoisted himself up out of his armchair and followed Shiro into the hall.</p><p>“What’s bugging you?”  Shiro should have known that Lance would sense his mood.  “Did Tatsuo get under your skin?”</p><p>Shiro pulled him into his arms, taking their daughter along with him.  He could feel her as a bundle of energy living just beneath Lance’s skin.  “He reminded me about the Seventh Night naming ceremony.  I’m not sure I’ve prepared enough.”  Shiro had no intention of worrying Lance over something as random and stupid as an unlucky day.</p><p>“We will be ready for oshichiya.”  Both of them turned at Haruka’s soft voice.  She had risen from her couch and now leaned out of the door frame from the rear parlor.  “I have already stocked the ingredients for sekihan and tai, and the stationery store nearby has materials suitable for making a meimeisho.  We used them for Midori’s.”</p><p>Shiro swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat.  “Thank you, Haruka.”</p><p>“It is no difficulty.”  She smiled at them.  “There is no wrong day to celebrate a baby, for they are lucky no matter when they arrive.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Tatsuo squirmed under Shinji’s critical gaze as he served the tea.  Shinji had come up to ask if he would like to take refreshment with him and overheard the tail end of his conversation with Shiro.  Not only was he displeased by what he had heard, he was not terribly understanding about Tatsuo’s reasons for sending Kuro’s alpha over there, either.</p><p>“You know what you must do,” Shinji finally said, breaking the tense silence.  “You must ensure that their luck does not sour over this.”</p><p>“I do not know any sumo wrestlers,” Tatsuo said as he folded himself into seiza.</p><p>“Not Naki-Zumo.”  Shinji saw right through his defenses as always.  “You must go to the shrine and acquire anzan omamori for them.”</p><p>Of course he was right.  Tatsuo regretted his thoughtless words.  That was why he found himself saying, “I believe I may do even better than that.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“I know how to make sarubobo dolls,” Tatsuo said.  He sighed.  “I learned how from my mother.  She used to make them to sell to travelers at the morning markets in Takayama.  It was how she met my father.”  She had, in fact, made one for him when he’d been a baby.  His first true companion.  He wondered if his father had kept it, or thrown it out with the rest of his belongings.</p><p>Shinji had gone still in the face of this unexpected late revelation from him.  “That would be a powerful amulet indeed.”</p><p>He would not push for the rest of the story, but perhaps someday soon Tatsuo would tell it anyway.  He smiled at his suitor’s patience with him and said, “Then I will do both for them.”</p><p>There was no reason that Shiro and his family should suffer the same sort of self-fulfilling prophecy as Tatsuo’s mother had.  Granted, Tatsuo did not think Shiro even really believed in the Rokuyo calendar, but prevention was always better than a cure.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Honerva kept Maahox’s advice in mind as she went about her business as best one could under the shadow of a Purple Notice from Interpol.  Most of the people she worked with on a daily basis were aware of it despite it being unpublished, but at least enough of them had their own notices to worry about that she didn’t feel singled out.  She took note of the way Merla always went on high alert in her presence, even when she didn’t mean to be seen.  On one occasion Merla had even scared away a colleague whose company Honerva found quite dreadful, though the man was otherwise harmless.  It would have cost her little to tolerate his blathering through lunch, but Merla had seen to it that she didn’t have to.  The girl definitely bore something more than fealty to her.</p><p>It made Honerva uncomfortable.  Maternal feelings did not come naturally to her; indeed, the depth of her concern for Lotor’s well-being had shocked her to the core when he was a baby.  Zarkon had been convinced that she had Postpartum Anxiety and insisted that she see their physician for medication, but that hadn’t been it.  Honerva had, over time, grown used to the fact that she would always worry over whatever would become of her son.  He remained the only individual that Honerva harbored such excessive concern for, and the fact that the feeling did not seem to be returned did little to reduce it.</p><p>There was no room in her heart for another.  Lotor owned all of it, and in the end there hadn’t been so much as a vesicle left over for even his father.  Honerva would have to do something about this.  Of course sending her to the Raible estate was out of the question, knowing as she now did that Merla felt some misplaced sibling rivalry with Lotor.  It was when she’d been politely interviewed to determine her whereabouts when her ex-husband had made his untimely disappearance that Honerva had realized that there was a way to at least temporarily get Merla out of her hair.</p><p>She looked up from her busy work at the tap on the door of her home office.  There stood Merla in one of her suits made of anti-ballistic materials.  The were so expensive that she only owned two, which she wore in rotation when she was on guard duty.</p><p>“Ma’am?”</p><p>“Come in.”  Honerva beckoned her.  “Sit.”</p><p>Merla did exactly as asked, no more no less.  Such exacting obedience should have been satisfying to see, but it was not.</p><p>“It has come to my attention that you do not wish to serve at the Raible estate.”</p><p>Merla’s stiff posture in the chair went even stiffer.  “Ma’am, I simply feel that your safety is more important during these trying times.  Lotor is much safer than you are at the moment, and Herreh is already well-embedded in that environment.”</p><p>Some dissembling but no attempt at a denial.  There was so little guile with this girl, it was almost shameful.</p><p>“As it happens, I do have a more important duty for you to take care of,” Honerva said, and watched the girl relax minutely in her chair before delivering the bad news, “I want you to go to California and find Acxa and Narti, and make sure those two aren’t able to stir up any more trouble.”</p><p>Maahox might think it better to let sleeping dogs lie, but as far as Honerva was concerned they were loose ends that needed to be tied off.</p><p>“Ma’am.”  Merla did not dare deny her, though she clearly wanted to.  “Nobody knows for sure where they have gone to ground.”</p><p>“I have a pretty good idea.”  Better than Maahox, who had enlisted some street gang to search the streets of Los Angeles for them.  “Lotor owns a number of properties in the state.”  Including some which Honerva was not supposed to know about.  “Acxa might also know about them, and may have somehow connived to acquire one.”  Even though the annulment should not have entitled her to any.  “They are listed on this thumb drive.”  Honerva passed the drive across the desk to Merla, who reluctantly took it from her hand.  “I would recommend you start looking there, and try to avoid Maahox’s gangsters if you can.”</p><p>“You can count on me, Ma’am.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Mary Ann walked out of another frustrating interview with low level Ultra Droid thugs who didn’t know enough to make their capture very useful.  They’d been caught breaking into the private palace that Lotor used to call home, which was still on the market after ownership reverted to the bank, so at least nobody had been around to get hurt.  On paper it established a connection between Lotor and the Ultra Droids, but in reality it didn’t get them as close to hauling in Ultra Droid leadership as Mary Ann would have liked.  One thing it did do was confirm that someone was looking for the ex-Mrs and her kids.  It was a good thing Kolivan had stuck to his guns and insisted on establishing a watch over them.</p><p>It was also a small mercy that nobody seemed to be looking for the Herakles kid, though the police up that way had been notified to be on the alert.  In addition to that, the older alpha boy, Cossack, had decided to stay on as a personal bodyguard to Alor and Lora Herakles.  The younger one, Morgil, had been returned safely to his mother.  If Maahox had in his possession what Colleen Holt and Agent Thace suspected that he had, then that bunch had no more need to go chasing after Lotor’s illegitimate sons.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>“And just to confirm, you want to upgrade monthly monitoring on both accounts, have I got that right sir?”</em>
</p><p>“Yes, that’s right.”</p><p>Hunk sat in his office with a cup of coffee going cold at his elbow while he spoke with the security company whose equipment he used in his home, and whom he’d also entrusted to secure the Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters storefront location.  He’d been using the most basic plan for the house, not seeing a need for live monitoring in what he’d always felt was a safe neighborhood.  He’d gone with a more comprehensive plan for the storefront, as it needed to keep the omegas who lived there safe, but he didn’t want them feeling like they lived under constant surveillance.  However, after Lorn had come in to work visibly rattled by increased gang activity near the hostel where he still lived, Hunk had decided that it wouldn’t hurt to temporarily upgrade both monitoring plans to the most stringent ones available.  It was a good thing he’d gone with a company that offered enough flexibility that doing so was turning out to be more of a boring chore than a true hassle.  The most headache inducing aspect of the whole deal was going to be the price tag, but the peace of mind would offset that.</p><p>“Hey, can we get a pet cam from you guys too?”</p><p>
  <em>“Yes sir, you can.”</em>
</p><p>“That’s awesome.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Belly dancing is one of several gentle activities which can be very helpful during the first stage of labor,” said Nurse Nahla.  “The hip motions can help your baby get into position for the stage of labor to follow.”</p><p>“Sweet!”  Lance grinned at Shiro who couldn’t help smiling back.</p><p>They were still preparing in every way they could, and if this helped Lance feel more ready for the day, then Shiro would be glad for it and keep his lingering worries to himself.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“You may feel the urge to push during transition because your baby’s head has begun to exert pressure on your cervix, but it’s important not to push until your cervix is fully dilated in order to avoid injury,” said Nurse Lahn.  “Many mothers become very vocal during this stage.  The movies like to depict this as mothers cursing up a storm in the delivery room, and it’s true that inhibitions are lowered, but that’s not really a typical scenario.  Changing your mind about pain medications or feeling like giving up are more typical behaviors seen during transition, but just know that it’s a temporary stage and it will end, and when it does you’ll be that much closer to meeting your baby.”</p><p>“I’m not gonna cuss anybody out,” Keith said, arms folded.</p><p>Hunk wisely did not comment on that.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Mary Ann was working the anonymous tip reports when she got the call.  Now that Orla McQueen was free to be herself again, she was out for Sendak’s blood and every tip needed to be checked out.  Even the ones that might be cranks.  Mary Ann was typing up a report on one of the three monitors in the spacious cubicle that was her home away from home when she saw the second line light up with a number that had higher priority than the elderly possible witness she was currently talking to.</p><p>
  <em>“...and then he said nothing but victory or death would stop him, and he laughed like a maniac before jumping off the roof of my shop!”</em>
</p><p>“Thank you sir, I’m forwarding you to someone who can take down your contact information for a followup.”  Her fingers flew across the dial pad as she patched him through to the agent put in charge of that thankless task and quickly answered the second line.  “Caspian here.”</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, I’ve got one of your persons of interest on my monitor, a woman named Merla Morgan?  She’s standing in line at customs, you want me to have her detained?”</em>
</p><p>“How long do you estimate she’ll be held up there if nobody interferes?”</p><p>
  <em>“She a citizen?”</em>
</p><p>Mary Ann had her file on Merla Morgan open in front of her in a flash.  “Yeah.”  Dual citizen, like most of Honerva Manigford’s employees.</p><p>
  <em>“She’s looking at a good hour waiting in the line we’ve got today, but once she makes it to the desk she’ll be through within minutes if we don’t detain her for questioning.”</em>
</p><p>Mary Ann quickly weighed the pros and cons of having Merla Morgan detained.  They could haul her in for questioning, but they didn’t have much on her as an individual, and what little they did could be challenged as hearsay by even the greenest of public defenders.  However, it was extremely likely that she was here on some errand for one of the Manigfords.  Probably Honerva.</p><p>“Go ahead and let her through the line.  If you can slow her down at the desk I’d appreciate it, but try not to tip her off that something’s up.  I’m en route.”</p><p>
  <em>“Will do.”</em>
</p><p>Mary Ann wanted to know why she was here, and she figured she’d get more answers if she simply followed her wherever she was going.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Merla closed herself into a motel room that smelled of cheap dusting spray, still frazzled from that argument with a customs agent.  They wanted her to declare the clothes on her back.  Ridiculous!  But in the end she’d paid the duty to avoid a bigger fine and further delay.  Even though it was stupid.</p><p>She opened her suitcase on a bedspread that would never look new again and took out her tablet and the thumb drive Honerva had given her, not even bothering to sit down on the creaky mattress before booting up the drive.  She hadn’t chosen this place for its amenities.  She’d chosen it for the fact that they were nearby, took cash and didn’t require ID to sign in.  She might not even stay the night, but it would do fine for a quick reconnoiter.</p><p>She found what she was looking for in the data Honerva had compiled on her son’s many hideaways.  The big fancy manses in L.A., Boulder and the Hamptons were all stricken from the list of possibilities immediately.  Acxa would be trying to fly under the radar, and that was flying well above it.  The man caves in Louisville and Elmont were under the radar but they were also out of state.  Honerva believed that Acxa had returned to California, and Merla believed she owed it to her mentor to check that out first.  The man caves were penciled off the list.</p><p>That left the bolt hole up in the High Sierras.  It was an off-grid house where a person who knew what they were doing could comfortably rough it for a reasonably long period of time.  It didn’t seem like the kind of place a dim-witted brute like Lotor would enjoy spending time in, honestly.  He may have acquired it on a whim and then forgotten about it.  That made it the perfect place for Acxa and Narti to lay low.  It would also make it the perfect place to hide their bodies.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Mary Ann sat in her car watching the motel from a parking spot on the curb and trying not to meet the eyes of any of the panhandlers working the nearest intersection.  Merla had taken the airport shuttle and then walked, evidently to create gaps in her paper trail.  Whatever she was up to, Mary Ann didn’t like it.  She took out her cell phone and dialed a number she’d committed to memory but had not used before now.</p><p>
  <em>“Yes?”</em>
</p><p>“Merla Morgan just landed at LAX.”</p><p>
  <em>“That is very good to know.  Thank you, Agent.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Click.</em>
</p><p>Kolivan was as ever a man of few words.  She’d just have to trust that he had shit handled on his end.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Bu!”  Zora’s little face broke into an incisors-only smile as she let go of the couch and toddled in Narti’s direction.  She made it three steps before she overshot, catching herself with her hands.  “Amma!”  And immediately started crying for Acxa.  Zora still hadn’t mastered controlling her momentum yet.  At least she was close enough to the ground to have not injured more than her pride.</p><p>Behind her, Roza let go of the couch to rush to her sister’s aid.  She wibble wobbled for three steps before falling much as Zora had, but Roza was the calmer twin, so she just rolled over and patted her sister, talking to her in the mysterious baby talk that only those two seemed to understand.  Kova remained well out of the reach of baby fingers from her position crouched on the back of the couch.  Acxa came out of the bedroom right at the same time as the SAT phone began ringing.</p><p>“They’re fine,” Narti reassured her before hurrying to the kitchen to catch that call.  As was her custom now, she picked up the receiver and waited for her caller to speak first.</p><p>
  <em>“Your children’s grandfather seems to have met with some misfortune.”</em>
</p><p>Kolivan was calling?</p><p>
  <em>“But an old colleague of yours has been spotted in the City of Angels.”</em>
</p><p>“Merla,” Narti said out loud before she could stop herself.  Some instinct in her hind-brain was telling her it couldn’t be anyone else.  In the living room, Acxa looked up from twin wrangling.</p><p><em>“Yes,”</em> Kolivan said after a short pause.  <em>“You should keep a vigilant eye on your security cameras.  I am keeping watch as well.”</em></p><p>“Satellite?”  Narti had wondered.</p><p>
  <em>“No.  Fire tower.”</em>
</p><p>Huh.  The nearest one was only a few miles away as the crow flies.  Longer as the car drives, but not by all that much.  “Okay, new plan.  Acxa and the kids go stay with you while I wait here for Merla to show her crazy face.”  </p><p>Narti was confident in Kova’s ability to stay out of the way of big people fighting, but not the babies, and where they went so should Acxa, who gracefully stood and strode over to her in the kitchen.  Even her ‘bitch you did not just’ face was classy beautiful.</p><p>
  <em>“That is a good plan.”</em>
</p><p>“It is a good plan, isn’t it?”</p><p>“No it’s not,” Acxa said.  “It’s a crap plan.”</p><p>“It’s Merla.”  Narti looked into Acxa’s deep blue eyes.  “You know she won’t stop coming for us unless somebody makes her stop.”</p><p><em>“I agree,”</em> said Kolivan in Narti’s ear, <em>“but perhaps we can lay a more thorough trap than just you watching and waiting alone in the house.  We have the advantage of foreknowledge.  We should use it.”</em></p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance preemptively packed his hospital bag in the nursery, with Haruka offering pointers since she’d done this less than a year earlier and knew what he would actually need and what might be just wishful thinking.  The umbilical cord box had gone into the soft-sided case without quibble, just on the off-chance that the stump should fall off early.  So had the travel toiletry kit, the nursing bras and the pack of strawberry candies.  The silk robe had been rejected.</p><p>“Get the old cardigan,” she said.</p><p>“You mean that ratty sweater I brought with me when I first came here?”  The old cardigan, worn and washed in the bathroom sink so often it had stretched to comfortable but unfashionable proportions, had come home with Lance from the omega hostel and then lived in the back of the walk-in closet in his room at the brownstone ever since.</p><p>“Yes.”  Haruka nodded.  “Hospitals can get cold.  But whatever you put on in the delivery room could get ruined.”</p><p>Into the bag went the old cardigan.  Also, his old oversized tank top with the cut off sleeves that he used to sleep in, because sometimes hospitals felt too hot instead of too cold.  Then the slouchy socks he’d gotten out of a clearance bucket at a Walgreens and the stretchy infinity scarf he’d picked up at an L.A. sidewalk sale.  If he really ruined this stuff there wouldn’t be much left of his old wardrobe, and Lance was actually fine with letting it go now.  The newest clothes in his bag wound up being maternity jeans, ergonomic sneakers and a button-front maternity top.</p><p>“Your going home outfit is good,” Haruka said approvingly.  “Your stomach will only go down part of the way in just two days.”</p><p>Lance was glad that his sister’s mother-in-law had warned him about that.  The only reasons he could figure that he hadn’t noticed before were that Lisa’s house dresses had flowed down over a bosom impressive enough to disguise the lingering bump, while Haruka had lived in jinbei for over a month after coming home with Midori.</p><p>“But why is aka-chan’s going home outfit yellow?”</p><p>Midori had worn white for the first seventeen days of her life, which was traditional in Haruka’s family.  Lance had no idea if it was also traditional in Shiro’s family, though if it was that might somewhat explain how he’d gotten his nickname before his hair had turned white.</p><p>“My mother made this receiving outfit,” he said.  “Yellow is very lucky.”</p><p>Haruka just shrugged.  As often as Midori had worn it in later weeks, yellow must be lucky to her too.  She approved Lance’s little jar of coconut oil, and the spandex t-back top he’d included just in case he got a chance to use that birthing tub.  Then she asked, “Where are your pads?”</p><p>“Pads?”  Lance blanked out for a second.  “Am I going to be leaking from somewhere?”</p><p>Haruka nodded, very serious.  “From everywhere.”</p><p>Oh joy.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Alana’s probably going to try to talk you into planting the stump under a fruit tree.”  Krolia, who had come over to help Keith make a first foray at packing his hospital bag, held the little wooden box Kuro had given him with a tender smile on her face.  “But I think you should keep it.”</p><p>“I was thinking about asking the hospital to give me the placenta for Hunk to bury,” Keith said.  Thanks to Matt, he knew exactly what steps he needed to take to make that happen.  “I was also thinking about giving Sunny a middle name, for a name day.”</p><p>“Oh?”  Krolia looked up from sorting through the little pile on the bed with a soft look.  “That would be nice.”</p><p>Keith smiled back at her.  He’d learned that his mother had received her first name in that tradition, and when she was little her grandmother and great uncle would come to visit with treats and well wishes every first of September.  Yorak had not been the right name for his child, but perhaps he could still give some of that family connection back to her.  “I was thinking Heliodorus would be a nice middle name.”</p><p>Krolia gave out a joyful laugh.  “He’ll be one of those kids who has two celebrations in the same month.”</p><p>Keith laughed with her, pleased that she was so obviously pleased.  “You never know, this kid might wind up overdue.”</p><p>“I hope he doesn’t wait too long.”  Krolia put a hand over Keith’s belly.  “I can’t wait to meet this little guy.”</p><p>Keith laid a palm over his mother’s hand.  “Yeah, neither can I.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Narti leaned in the driver’s side window of the Jeep Wrangler, kissing Acxa goodbye.  Hopefully not for the last time.  The girls were strapped into their rear-facing car seats in the back seat.  Narti could hear their excited baby yammer.  They knew something was happening but they couldn't know how serious it was.  The go-bags were stacked in the passenger front seat.</p><p>“Be careful,” Acxa said when they finally let go of each other.</p><p>“I’m always careful.”</p><p>Acxa gave her a hard look.  “No you’re not, but you’d better be this time.”</p><p>“I will.”  To a reasonable extent, under the circumstances.  “Drive safe.”</p><p>Acxa looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead she nodded as Narti backed away from the vehicle so she could pull away from the house.  </p><p>And then Narti was alone.  “Time to set some traps.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Once Merla figured out what she was in for and made a few other preparations, she decided to go ahead and use her paid up night to get some sleep.  The very next morning, after breaking her fast with a cheap breakfast sandwich and scalding hot coffee, she walked several blocks to a camping supply store and walked out again stocked well enough for a few days’ hiking in mountainous terrain.  She hoped not to be out in the elements for that long, but she preferred to be prepared for any likelihood.  She was now equipped with suitable outdoor clothing, some basic camping supplies and a means to carry them.  She’d made especially certain not to forget purchasing several stainless steel folding knives.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Mary Ann had Merla’s purchases up on her screen and Colleen Holt in her ear via headset.  Either overconfidence from an uneventful landing or a simple lack of cash had resulted in her using plastic to buy her expeditionary equipment.  It was obvious where she intended on going, and troublesome that she knew where to look in the first place.  Mary Ann was trying not to freak out about the knives while Colleen reassured her that Kolivan and Perdana had worked out some kind of a trap.</p><p>
  <em>“And if she does try to use those knives on a person, her ass is in more trouble than the Manigfords can ever hope to get her out of again.”</em>
</p><p>Mary Ann’s eyes flickered across the screen as new data poured in via credit card trace.  Well how about that.  “Her ass just got on a MegaBus headed in your direction.”</p><p>
  <em>“No shit?”</em>
</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Only a four wheel drive vehicle like the one Acxa was driving could have made it up the last leg of the mountain pass to the base of the lookout tower.  She’d taken the rocky dirt road at a slow enough pace to navigate with as few jolts as possible, worried about the girls’ fragile little skeletons bouncing around back there.  Thankfully the car seats were doing their job and the girls had not cried even for a second.  Not even Zora, who seemed to have inherited the lion’s share of Lotor’s temperament in spite of the fact that she and Roza were identical twins and therefore had identical genes.</p><p>Acxa had worried about that, too.  What if she wasn’t objective enough to be a fair mother to these little girls?  What if they turned out too much like he had?  But as she’d watched them grow, she’d realized that they represented the best parts of Lotor.  The Lotor she’d fallen in love with, who could have been a good person if not for the terrible parenting he’d received.  Also, that there just wasn’t much objectivity involved in mothering, no matter how righteous her intentions might have been.</p><p>Kolivan was waiting for them beside his own 4x4 truck in the cleared gravel space at the bottom of the tower.  He offered to help Acxa tote up the girls and the go-bags, and Acxa allowed it.  She wanted him on his way to help Narti, the anxiety over her situation a relentless churning in her stomach, but she knew that all it would take would be a moment with her eyes off the girls and a mountain lion she’d never realized was there could be making off with one of her children.  The steel staircase to the cabin was steep but railed.  They made it to the top without being attacked by anything more threatening than a deer fly.</p><p>The cab had an observation deck running all the way around it – also railed – and an alidade in the center of the floor.  Otherwise, it looked like a studio apartment in the sky.  A spotlessly clean one.  It would be easy to assume that Kolivan had only just gotten there himself, if not for the tripod set up on the observation deck, and the long, locked metal case on the floor just inside the door.</p><p>“Ordinarily I would not advocate leaving something such as this around small children,” Kolivan said solemnly.  “However, I have a concern that you might require this item more than I in the foreseeable future.”  He paused before descending the metal staircase.  “I would appreciate it if you would also look out for fires while you are here and I am there.”</p><p>Acxa promised to keep an eye out for smoke as she saw him off.  She really hoped that he was wrong about needing the TAC rifle.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Take a long, deep breath in through the nose, and exhale through the mouth.”</p><p>Keith sat on the floor leaning against Hunk’s legs as Hunk worked his magic fingers on his shoulders.  He fought against the impetus to snooze as Nurse Lahn continued to talk them through deep breathing exercises.  If only labor could really be this relaxing.  Keith didn’t think it would be called labor if it actually was relaxing, though.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Staying calm and available to your partner is one of the best things you can do while your partner is laboring,” said Nurse Nahla.  “Remember, you cannot predict how fast labor will go, even for first time mothers.  It is true that the first baby is often the slowest to arrive, but it is also true that some mothers proceed through labor quickly.  Once active labor starts, be present.  If your favorite show is on, you’ll just have to stream it later.”</p><p>The fathers in the class laughed nervously.  Nahla had them all sitting on birthing balls, an incongruous picture since many of them, Shiro included, were wearing suits.  Shiro rolled his birthing ball closer to Lance’s and laid a hand across the back of his neck.  He fully intended to be present, no matter what he had to do in order to be there, or who he had to offend.  As uncomfortable as he was right at that second, it had to be no comparison to the discomfort of giving birth.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Colleen circled the Oakland International Airport, glad she didn’t have to worry too much about running out of gas because she’d left the house with a full charge to fall back on.  She still wasn’t able to justify the expense of a Tesla, but she had traded in her old Camry for a new Prius.  Her phone was presently connected to its bluetooth so that she could talk to Mary Ann with her hands free to steer.</p><p>“I know she got off here, I saw her with my own eyes.”  </p><p>Colleen had picked up Morgan’s tail at the MegaBus terminal and followed the Rapid Transit she’d subsequently boarded.  That red hair with the rattail was hard to miss, even in a crowd.  Morgan had come to the airport.  Colleen had then elected to circle the terminals until she knew whether Morgan was actually boarding a plane.  She could have as easily come here to rent a car, and Colleen didn’t want to be stuck settling a parking bill while Morgan drove off into the sunset.</p><p><em>“I’ve got no plane tickets or car rentals coming up on my screen,”</em> Mary Ann said, sounding frustrated.  They’d been hoping to catch her boarding a plane with weapons, which would give them enough probable cause to hold her without her being able to bail herself out and disappear.</p><p>Morgan would not have been able to rent a car with cash, but she could have bought a plane ticket.  She wouldn’t have made it past security with that face and those knives, however, and now she’d been inside the complex for over an hour.  Something was off about this.  Colleen circled Airport Drive with the Economy Lot coming up on her right again, and idly turned to look out her passenger side to track one of those great big dually trucks heading in the opposite direction, and there was something familiar about it.  But there was something even more familiar in the front seat: Morgan behind the driver's wheel.</p><p>“Son of a bitch!”</p><p>
  <em>“What?!”</em>
</p><p>“She stole a truck!”  Colleen got in the right lane to turn around.  She rattled off the California tag number while steering through the curve.  Where had she seen that truck before?  “We’ve got her on grand theft auto if we can catch up to her.”</p><p>
  <em>“I’m putting out an APB.”</em>
</p><p>“Make sure it’s understood that she’s a high risk for a high speed chase.”  That brazen woman probably wouldn’t care who got hurt as long as she got away.</p><p>
  <em>“On it.”</em>
</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Merla could have stolen a car for real, but then she wouldn’t have a backup plan if she got busted for it.  She’d taken a few minutes out of her busy schedule and a significant chunk of her ready cash to cut a deal with some of the lowlifes Lotor used to buy controlled substances from.  They’d arranged to plant a car for her to liberate, she didn’t want to know how.  If she did get caught, she could use them for an alibi while still honestly being able to say that she didn’t know where the car came from.  What they'd actually planted for her was an old truck, which seemed practical enough for her purposes.  She noticed it had a locked cargo box but didn't have time to fool with it, so she'd just thrown her gear in the back seat and gone.</p><p>After merging onto the Interstate, she noticed a black helicopter flying just a little too low overhead and it occurred to her that she might have been set up.  Damn those fucking Ultra Droids, she should have listened to Honerva’s warning not to deal with them.  She needed to ditch this truck and steal a clunker like she should have done to start with.  Next exit was the Oakland Arena, but all the parking there was uncovered, meaning whatever she did next would be seen by whoever that snoop was in the helicopter.  She spotted an exit for a shopping center in Alameda and swooped in front of a minivan to take it, cutting them off with a blare of horns.</p><p>She tailgated some jerk in a station wagon over a bridge and then zoomed down several service roads before finding the glorious sight of the parking garage that she’d been hoping to see.  It had a prepaid parking kiosk but no gate, so she ignored the ticket machine and gunned the truck up the ramp.  There were probably cameras recording her in here, but she couldn’t do anything about that now.  She cruised up another ramp and hit paydirt on the second level: a late 90's Honda Accord, common as the dirt covering her current ride's mud flaps, and easy to steal.  She parked in a handicapped spot and, just to know for future reference how much the Ultra Droids had planned to screw her over, checked the glove box to see if there were keys to the cargo box in there.  There were.</p><p>She snatched her camping gear out of the back seat and opened up the cargo box in the bed of the truck.  There was a gun safe in there.  Maybe it was empty, but more likely it held weapons used in crimes that the Ultra Droids had intended to pin on her.  Merla took the safe with her along with the camping gear when she broke into the Accord, taking an extra second to yank her new SPF camping hat down over her hair.  It might turn out those Ultra Droids had been useful to her after all.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Kolivan showed up in time to help Narti set a few net traps at the outer perimeter of the property line.  Narti did not actually expect the net traps to catch Merla.  She just wanted her inconvenienced and maybe distracted enough to fall for the trip wires closer to the house.  Kolivan took a call as they were heading back in to check security cams.</p><p>“I see.  Thank you for keeping me updated.”  He closed his call and turned to Narti.  “She’s equipped herself for camping and then managed to shake off surveillance in Alameda.”</p><p>So basically Merla could be anywhere from four hours to another whole day out, depending on how inconvenienced she was already.  Just one thing left to do for now.</p><p>“What do you think about grilled cheese for dinner?” Narti asked.</p><p>“I think that sounds splendid.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Acxa managed to get the girls fed and bedded down in their travel bed.  The cab had a decent sized bunk bed, but the bottom bunk was higher off the ground than she felt comfortable allowing them to sleep.  Their little eyelids moved as they dreamed baby dreams, little hands clutching each other in sleep much as they did when they were awake.  They were almost too big to share one travel bed anymore.</p><p>She bided her time watching home through Kolivan’s binoculars, glad his were military grade with special lenses that didn’t glint in the fading daylight.  She watched him help her partner lay traps around the property line and wondered how long he’d been up here doing the same before he’d revealed himself to them.  It was not as uncomfortable a feeling as she would have expected, probably simply because it was Kolivan and not somebody else.  There was something diffidently respectful about the man, even when he was stoically uprooting the foundations a person’s very existence stood upon.</p><p>She watched Kolivan take a call on his SAT phone as they hiked back in the direction of the house, and resisted the temptation to use the walkie talkie to demand answers.  Radio silence should only be broken by the advance guard in the house.  Then Narti used the walkie talkie to radio her.</p><p>
  <em>“We’ve got four hours minimum downtime. Over.”</em>
</p><p>“10-4.  Over and out.”</p><p>Acxa set her travel alarm to vibrate in three and half hours and put it under her pillow before lying down in the bottom bunk to catch some sleep.  Having babies had trained her to get by on short naps far more thoroughly than any of her security training ever had.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Mary Ann joined her colleague Special Agent Fentress in the small conference room that had been requisitioned for a group call with Holt and other members of the growing task force.  They were in a delicate position where they needed to coordinate with officers in agencies who were not privy to the real identities of Perdana, Price or even Kolivan.  Fentress, who was attached to the Fish and Wildlife Service, had an office in the same multi-agency building where Mary Ann worked, and even better, she’d already been investigating Macidus for deliberate and negligent introduction of invasive species, which he’d done in the pursuit of his various party drugs and serums.  Due to her familiarity with some of the players, her level of jurisdiction in the area where the current crisis was playing out, and her reputation for discretion, the special agent was brought in on the operation.  Mary Ann hoped her presence would help tip the balance in favor of everyone coming out of this with nothing more serious to show for it than a couple of days of stress.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Merla drove the Accord until the gas gauge clicked on empty, and then she rode on fumes until the car finally coasted to a stop on a mountain road in the middle of nowhere.  It was now full dark, and the temperature had dropped to around fifty degrees.  At least the car’s battery was still working.  She was probably only a few hours’ hike away from Narti and Acxa’s little love nest now.  She got out the compass to double check that assumption, considering whether she should try for a night hike, when eye shine from somewhere beyond the tree line caught her attention.  She stilled, looking out the windshield.</p><p>There it was again.  It could be a deer.  Or it could be a mountain lion, she wasn’t a wildlife expert.  It would probably be better to conserve her energy and wait for first light.  Merla engaged the car’s locks and turned the head beams on full bright, seeing no reason not to use up the battery’s last juice before abandoning the car.</p><p>She dug a protein bar out of her backpack, munching on it as she set about picking the lock on the gun safe.  Given its size, she wasn’t too surprised to find a .22 pistol in there.  She checked the chamber and found it dirty; checked the magazine and found it loaded with BB Caps.  It was a malfunction waiting to happen.  She wasn’t terribly impressed, but if she failed to gain the advantage of surprise well enough to utilize her knives then this could still give her an edge.  </p><p>Then she found another prize wedged under the foam.  A switchblade, double action OTF, totally illegal.  She tested its edge, its weight and the speed with which it could be deployed, and found it a lot more impressive than the peashooter.  Now this really could give her an edge.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>It was another one of those oh-dark-thirty mornings when Matt woke to find Ryan already in uniform, moving quietly around the bedroom gathering up his wallet and truck keys, and whatever other detritus he might need for wherever he was off to.  These were not common occurrences, but they happened just often enough that Matt knew what kind of answer to expect when he rose from the bed to embrace him in the middle of the floor.</p><p>“You can’t tell me where you’re going or when you’ll be back?”</p><p>Ryan’s arms rose up around him, his scent a comfort.  “I can tell you I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can.  I can’t wait to be back.”</p><p>Since he felt this to be true, Matt simply reciprocated the scenting that was being bestowed on him.  Then Ryan called in Bae Bae to watch over him for the rest of the night and he was gone.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Ryan didn’t often get to use his rating for the AStar.  Helicopters were always a test of his ability to focus and think against the grain.  He tried to drum up some excitement about the upcoming challenge during his preflight checks.  He was carrying four agents up to San Jose where they’d convene with Colleen and whatever team she’d pulled together.  Then he would refuel and fly recon before rejoining the rest of them at Nevada County Air Park.  Hopefully the FLIR cameras mounted near the skids would capture the fugitive’s location and not bear witness to a tragedy.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Acxa had been up for hours watching the moon set and drinking Kolivan’s instant coffee (it was better than nothing) when she saw the whirly bird flying high through the blue hour.  The susurrus of its rotors at this distance could be mistaken for the wind sighing through the trees, if a person didn’t know what to listen for.  Acxa did, and she knew that Merla would too; she just hoped Merla took it for a sightseeing tour instead of what it probably was, which was one of Kolivan’s people checking the lay of the land.  She wanted to signal to the pilot that all was well in the tower, but she didn’t dare in case Merla was close enough to spot it.  The girls would be awake and hungry soon.  She should focus on that for the time being.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The abandoned car had been found with relative ease.  Morgan hadn’t even bothered trying to move it off the road.  As for the woman herself, tracks indicated she’d gone into the forest, where the tree cover and proliferation of warm-bodied wildlife worked in her favor against a FLIR search.  ISB was on the scene to coordinate a manhunt into the sector of the national forest where she’d disappeared.  Colleen Holt’s handpicked team moved on ahead, toward the private property that they knew was Morgan’s intended destination.  Unfortunately, they could only guess at exactly how much of a head start she had on them.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Narti watched her camera feeds while Kolivan softly spoke on his SAT phone.  They were up in the office, where they had the best sniping positions if Merla were to somehow get past the perimeter.  She’d still have to cross some cleared land in all four directions around the house.  Kolivan turned to her after getting off the phone.</p><p>“She took off on foot from State Route 49.”  He showed her the nearest postmile on the map they had open over the chess table.  “They’re not sure exactly what time.”</p><p>“At least we know what direction.”  Narti went to the bookshelf and took down a Plasticase.  “I’m sending out a drone.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Merla had underestimated how her travel time was going to be affected by the elevated terrain.  This hike would take four hours, minimum.  She also had to keep an ear open in case the helicopter came back around.  She didn’t know that its crew was looking for her, but she didn’t know that it wasn’t, either.  She swatted away a deer fly irritably, then heard the sound of propellers buzzing and looked up.  Weaving between the pointed tops of the pine trees was a damn drone.</p><p>At least she knew for sure now that both the compass around her wrist and the one in her brain were leading her in the right direction.  She snatched the .22 out of the gear loop on her backpack’s hip belt and got off a shot that clipped the drone in its landing skid, causing it to spin wildly above the tree canopy before its handler – who was she kidding, it had to be Narti – started it flying away home.  Merla aimed another shot hoping to disable it permanently and the motherfucking gun malfunctioned.</p><p>“Damn it!”</p><p>Now it was nothing but a dangerous paperweight.  Merla disposed of the dud extremely improperly by throwing it away from herself as she launched herself after the crazily flying drone.  She’d trained with weighted rucksacks, so she knew she could go seven minutes on less rugged terrain.  She’d probably sprain something if she tried to go full-out in this environment, so she paced herself, aiming to keep the drone in sight for as long as possible.  She wouldn’t keep up with it for long but she might keep up long enough to make doubly sure she wouldn’t get lost or need a course correction later.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“The drone will lead her here faster.”  Kolivan frowned at the footage showing Merla getting smaller and smaller as she ran through the trees like a proud alien princess in some scifi show.</p><p>“Maybe not,” said Narti, who’d hit ‘return to home’ before remembering that Merla was nuts enough to try chasing it.  “She grazed one of the compasses, now it’s out of whack.”  Narti judged her to already be off track by a couple of dozen yards.  She could probably kiss that drone goodbye though.  Fare thee well, fair drone.</p><p>“She knows we’re here and that we know she’s here.”  Kolivan was determined to keep stewing.</p><p>“She knows I’m here,” Narti corrected him.  “She doesn’t know about you yet.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The girls had just gone down for their morning nap when Acxa heard the thump.  The report was faint but unmistakable to her ears.  Someone had fired a handgun, maybe a mile away, probably farther due to acoustic refraction.  She picked up the walkie talkie, hesitated and looked back at her sleeping daughters.  It pained her, but she had to maintain radio silence until she got the all clear.  So she took the walkie talkie and the binoculars out onto the observation deck with her and started uncasing that sniper rifle.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Merla slowed to double time, mind working overtime.  Narti knew she was coming.  Those helicopters out looking for her might have actually been looking for her specifically as the assassin closing in on a target, not her abstractly as the person who stole two vehicles in a nearby major metropolitan area.  Merla had been hoping for the element of surprise, but now she was bringing a knife to a gunfight, and her anti-ballistic suits were in a locker at the airport.  She’d seen specs of the off-grid house in the file Honerva had given her.  There was no way to get inside without having to run past a hail of bullets if Acxa and Narti were wary and watching for her approach.</p><p>She slowed to a walk as she spotted a suspicious looking pile of leaves and grass on the forest floor up ahead, mostly still green and way more built up than the scatter elsewhere on the ground.  She scanned the trees around it and spotted the trigger.  Did Narti really think a net trap was going to fool her?  Then she smiled, because now she had a way to make Narti come out to her, and all she had to do was get caught.  Maybe she’d even get one of her stun guns off her before she finished her off.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Kolivan and Narti watched the footage of Merla dangling in a net with high skepticism.  She’d taken off the backpack she’d been wearing in the drone footage.  Probably hid it somewhere just out of sight before strolling into the trap.</p><p>“She’s got knives,” Kolivan said.  “She could get down any time she wants.”</p><p>“Yeah she’s waiting for me to come get her.”  Narti started casting about the room, loading up stun weapons and looking for protective gear.</p><p>“You should wait for my team to arrive and secure her,” Kolivan said critically.</p><p>“Then one of them will wind up with a knife in them.”  Narti zipped into her slash resistant windjammer.  “I know how to deal with her.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The advantage of being forced into a tight hammock in the sky was that Merla had a pretty good vantage point to spot Narti coming.  She was aware that she was a clay pigeon sitting up there if she let Narti get close enough, but she didn’t want to risk her running for cover too soon.  She had to time her surprise just right.  She waited until she saw a human figure walking through the trees toward her position before using one of the folding knives to cut a hole in the side of the net, enabling her to dangle by a handhold before dropping to the ground.  If she’d fallen out back first she might not have gotten back up again.  Instead she hit the ground rolling and hit her feet winded but ready.</p><p>Narti just stood there smirking.  “Hey nutso.  Long time no see.”</p><p>“Not long enough for me.”  Then Merla charged her, because why wait for her to draw one of the weapons she had hidden on her?</p><p>Narti blocked her knife arm and aimed a blow at her throat.  Merla twirled out of the way and took the switchblade out of the cargo pocket of her scrambler pants.  With the blade locked, the handle was pretty well hidden in her fist as she came back around to re-engage.  Narti would have noticed her taking something out of her pocket, but hopefully she wouldn’t realize it had a blade on it.  Narti once again easily blocked the feint with the folding knife, forearms up as easy targets for the switchblade.  Merla brought down the blade handle, aiming for the radial arteries and springing the blade at the last second.</p><p>“Ow!”  Narti danced back out of the way shaking her arm.  “Goddamn, motherfuck!”</p><p>Pain was the desired reaction, but there should be blood spurting and there wasn’t.  Where was the red stuff?  Merla went in for another blow while Narti was distracted and suddenly found her arms pinned to her sides.</p><p>“Watch out, she’s got a switchblade!”</p><p>“I noticed,” said the man behind her, right before Merla smacked her head back as hard she could and hit him in the chin.</p><p>He grunted and let her go.  She tried to shake the stars out of her eyes and felt the sun hat falling off her head as she turned with both knives raised.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Acxa stared through the scope into the foliage far away, eye relief goggles on.  She was also wearing ear muffs, and so were the girls.  It was actually helping her right now that she couldn’t hear them inside griping because she’d put them in their travel playpen and wouldn’t let them out.  Amma was busy.  She’d adjusted the lens to try to account for both distance and forest shadows as best she could.  The tripod helped stabilize her aim as she picked out the human-sized figures below moving in a deadly dance.  </p><p>All of them were dressed for stealth, so it was hard to tell them apart from each other, much less from the trees around them.  She’d never forgive herself if she fired and accidentally hit Narti.  Then a sheaf of bright red appeared in the reticle.  Acxa grinned fiercely.  It was Merla’s fucking hair.  She took a cleansing breath and slowly squeezed the trigger, braced for the recoil.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Narti tried to fumble a stun gun out of her pocket with the arm that didn’t hurt like fire, while Kolivan staggered wiping blood off his chin.  Merla was up and armed with the adrenaline of the crazed, and then suddenly she was down with a bloodstain spreading from her upper arm.  She’d dropped the switchblade.  Narti wasted no time running forward to kick it away from her.  Kolivan wasted no time standing on the hand still holding the foldout knife.  It was in this stance that Colleen Holt and her team came crashing out of the trees to find them.</p><p>Merla was quickly handcuffed with a field bandage slapped over her gunshot wound while agents checked over Kolivan and Narti for injuries.  Narti’s arm was badly bruised from being poked really hard through high-tech slash resistant fabric.  Kolivan had bitten his tongue and was annoyed about it because now he sounded like Sylvester the Cat when he talked.</p><p>As soon as the backup showed up to cart Merla off, Colleen wanted to know who had shot her.  Narti and Kolivan exchanged a guarded look, until Kolivan said, “It had to be Acxa.  But she was using my rifle.”</p><p>“Merla was trying to kill us with that switchblade,” Narti cut in.</p><p>“What ammo do you use?” asked the alpha Narti didn’t recognize, a tall woman wearing a neck gaiter and an FWS addendum to her Federal Agent jacket.</p><p>“Seven millimeter SAUM,” Kolivan answered.</p><p>“Same as me.”  The FWS agent patted her hunting rifle holstered in a chest sling.  “I shot Morgan when I saw her getting ready to stab you.”  She nodded toward where another group of agents were securing Merla to a stretcher while she bitched them out, probably earning herself an especially uncomfortable evac.</p><p>“The bullet could work if we can get rid of the cartridge case,” Colleen said, looking up in the direction of the fire tower.  “The angle might not.”</p><p>“I expect we’ve bought ourselves some time to figure out an answer for that too,” said another agent, the redheaded one named Caspian.  “Let’s go get rid of that casing.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Acxa used Kolivan’s binoculars to track the approach of the black SUV up the path to the tower.  He’d radioed her to let her know that Narti was fine and that two agents were coming up to secure the scene, and that she wasn’t in any trouble.  Merla was alive but secured, Acxa’s kill shot sent slightly off course by wind shear.  Then he’d let Narti talk to her, and she’d confirmed everything he’d said along with a code word that let Acxa know she was not speaking under duress.  Acxa had locked away Kolivan’s sniper rifle and soothed her cranky little girls while waiting.  The twins were fed and napping again, but they’d be awakened if the agents tromped in with no regard for the presence of sleeping babies.</p><p>Acxa watched the vehicle park at the base of the tower, and two female agents emerge.  She went to the door and opened it to forestall the girls being startled awake by knocking.  She expected to see two well-armed agents in protective gear pop up over the edge of the observation deck as they climbed the steep staircase.  She didn’t expect to hear two alphas gossiping about omegas as they did so.</p><p>“And you say you met him through Seraphim?” the taller one with the neck gaiter was saying.  “One of my old squadmates works for them, she’s been trying to talk me into going to one of their meet and greets.”</p><p>“Yeah, they’re alright,” said the redheaded one.  “If you’re looking to meet people give ‘em a shot.”</p><p>“Maybe I will.”</p><p>Acxa said, “Ladies.”</p><p>Instantly both women switched to professional bearing.  “My name is Agent Fentress, and this is Agent Caspian,” said the tall single one.  “We’re here to recover trace pertaining to a certain rifle.”</p><p>“Come on in,” Acxa said, standing aside, “and try not to wake my kids.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Kurojishi had tried to coerce answers out of a giant with his tickling spell, and now they were all running for cover while the giant knocked over trees trying to dislodge magical tickling hands.  He’d thundered into their camp following the scent of unborn kittens, but instead of running like they were now realizing they should have done, they’d decided to try to make him tell them where to find the Boss they were looking for.  Giants usually knew such things, but it was dangerous to try to compel them to share their knowledge, as they discovered when the panicking giant accidentally dispatched Never’fearo by stepping on him.  Alas, Sir Ainmeil and Moonfeather were not around to save their collective rears this time.  Pike oingy-boinged from tree to tree, invisibility cloak once more rendered useless by an adversary with a superior sense of smell.</p><p>“If he falls on us, it’s finis, finale!”  He tried to hide behind a tree trunk but his belly poked out the other side.  “Pancake city, man!”  Then he sneezed.  “Damn it.  I think I just peed a little.”</p><p>Kuro’s nose delicately wrinkled.  “I think so too.”</p><p>Thunderstorm’s laughter ended in a snort, and then, <em>“Oh no.”</em></p><p>“I’ll guard you while you tinkle,” said Block.</p><p>“Nobody has time to tinkle!”  Pidge was in the nursery with Lance, Kuro and Shiro, all of them camped out on the faded rose rug with blankets, drinks and snacks.  “One of you chuckleheads needs to figure out how to solve this giant problem.  Otherwise you’re all going to be starting over from scratch just like– ”</p><p>“It is I!”  Magical sparkles accompanied the Paladin’s latest rebirth into the world of Monsters &amp; Mana.  “Hav’a’beero!  Stand aside while I stab this giant with my sword Churchkey!”</p><p>“Shiro.”  Pidge turned to him sitting between Lance and Kuro.  “How am I supposed to take your character seriously when you pick a name telling everybody it’s Miller time every time you introduce yourself?”</p><p>“It’s pronounced Hah-vuh-BEE-ro,” Shiro insisted with all of the dignity of a man who was flat out of names to give.  “But I can see where the confusion comes in.”</p><p>“Give me Churchkey,” Lance said.</p><p>“But I– ” Pike took Churchkey away from Hav’a’beero on their computer monitors.  “Okay.”</p><p>Pike stepped out from behind the tree and stabbed the giant in the ankle.  The giant screamed loud enough to shake the trees as Pike stood his ground shaking the sword up at him.</p><p>“My back hurts, my belly itches, and I’m probably going to wake up from a charley horse tonight!  You tell us what we want to know, then Kurojishi will take the tickle spell off you!  Don’t tell us and I’m gonna start hacking off toes!”</p><p>The giant started blabbing out information immediately.</p><p>“Go, momma,” said Pidge with a nod of respect.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The Camry arrived just in time for Shiro to use it to take Pidge to the airport for her flight home.  Kuro would have liked to have gone with them, but the flight time conflicted with his Master class which he couldn’t miss, and Pidge had already put it off for as late as she dared so she could spend a few extra hours with Kuro at the house.  Meanwhile, Shiro had already taken the morning off to pick up the Camry, so he could better justify staying out of the office late enough to see Pidge off personally instead of asking Kai to do it.  Metallic blue with a grey interior and every factory safety feature installed from the driver assist package right down to the first aid kit, Shiro was pleased enough with the car that he wouldn’t mind driving it himself from time to time.  Even if the baby wasn’t in it.</p><p>“Nice wheels.”  Pidge set the passenger’s seat back to stretch her legs.  Though really, she probably didn’t need the extra space for that.  “You gonna mod it out?”</p><p>“It’s for the baby,” Shiro said, as the navigation system perked up to recommend he take the toll bridge to avoid a road closure.</p><p>Pidge tilted her head to look over at him.  “Are you planning to mothball this car for sixteen years?”</p><p>“What?”  Shiro glanced away from the road.  “No, I mean... it’s for the baby to ride in.”</p><p>“So it’s Lance’s car.”</p><p>Shiro pursed his lips.  “Yes.”  </p><p>He’d been doing some mental gymnastics to avoid admitting it to himself, but it was Lance’s car, to drive out of Shiro’s direct or indirect supervision at his own discretion.  If Shiro had thought the idea of the subway was bad, this was only moderately better.  But he did trust Lance’s street smarts, and besides which he wasn’t driving anywhere for at least another month because he could no longer see his feet.  Still, maybe Shiro ought to make an appointment with the dealer to have an aftermarket remote start and alarm system installed before he turned the keys over to its eventual owner.  After all, there probably wasn’t much more distracting to someone trying to load and unload their car than a fussing baby.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“You need a hand with that?”  Keith was already out of Matt’s subcompact SUV in the parking garage with Kosmo’s leash in one hand, but the other one was still free.</p><p>“No, that’s okay, I’ve got it.”  Matt had unloaded his Maxi-Cosi with practiced ease, turning it from a car seat into a forward facing stroller fast enough to make Keith a little jealous of his skills.  Then he’d stowed Banon’s diaper bag in the canvas tray under the stroller seat, strapped Banon himself into the stroller seat, and then he’d encountered his first snag in the process trying to figure out where Bae Bae fit into that configuration.  The dog waited and watched patiently from the hatchback.  Banon kicked and babbled in the stroller.  Somewhere nearby, crickets chirped and grass grew.</p><p>They’d come to the botanical garden on UCLA campus, where leashed dogs and kids alike were welcome.  Keith was hoping that the dogs would like it here.  It seemed like a good place to move their doggie play dates since off-the-leash public parks were at least temporarily verboten.  Matt had been talking about it all the way from Keith’s house to visitor parking, excited to see the native habitat garden.  Keith could see where Banon got his baby babble from.  But it was becoming clear now that Matt had reached a personal impasse and required Keith’s expert intervention once more.</p><p>“How about you walk Kosmo, and I’ll walk Bae Bae?”  Keith held out the loose leash handle to his friend.  “Kosmo knows how to behave with a stroller, and I’m sure Bae Bae will be fine with me.”  Truthfully, Bae Bae had been better behaved on the leash the first time they’d tried this, but that had been over a month ago and Keith felt justifiably proud of Kosmo’s progress since then.</p><p>Matt said, “Okay.”  They locked up the vehicle and headed out for the day.  Keith’s confidence in Kosmo was rewarded many times over by the time they got back.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The package arrived in a box with a label marked up in a combination of English and hiragana.  The signature stamp of the person declaring that the package contained no dangerous goods belonged to Tatsuo.  Shiro felt it was perfectly reasonable for him to want to take the box up to his office to open it and confirm that for himself.  With the door shut and Lance on the other side of it.  Even though his name was in the receiver’s field too.</p><p>“You are being very childish.”  Haruka had taken Lance’s side in this, her voice muffled by the closed door.  How quickly the tides may turn.  If Kuro had been here and not at a class, he too might have been standing out there in the hall, in spite of the fact that he should know his mother better than anyone.</p><p>Shiro took the box to his desk and opened it with scissors.  After taking out a bubble sheet and sifting through tissue paper, he found the bundled furoshiki and lifted it out. Tucked into the top fold was a cloth amulet, and a note.</p><p>“Since it is too late for obiiwai, this will have to do,” Shiro read aloud.  </p><p>The amulet was created out of embroidered silk cloth, with the shrine and the blessing identified on the front and decorations representing a phoenix landing on a kiri tree over the front and back.  It dangled from a white cord so that it could be draped from a wrist or a bed post, or wherever it needed to be as a wish for safe delivery.  Tatsuo had sent them anzan omamori blessed to protect childbirth.  Somewhat pacified, Shiro unwrapped the furoshiki and found in there a red plush doll in a black hat and singlet, about the size and shape of a teddy bear, but where a teddy bear would have button eyes and a snout of some sort, this plush just had featureless red.  Shiro went to the door and opened it, and thrust it out at Haruka.</p><p>“What is this?”</p><p>“Oh!”  Haruka took the plush so that it wouldn’t fall on the floor.  “A sarubobo!”</p><p>“An accident-prone monkey?”  It didn’t look much like a monkey to Shiro.  Though it did look somewhat like it might have befallen an accident.  Instead of ending in feet and hands, its chubby limbs ended in stitched triangular points.</p><p>“No,” said Haruka, “a baby monkey!”</p><p>Shiro still wasn’t seeing a resemblance to a monkey.</p><p>“It’s a protective charm for the baby,” Haruka explained, to Shiro and also to Lance, who had taken the plush toy from her hands to get a better look at it.  “She could play with this for years.”</p><p>That was as opposed to the anzan omamori amulet, which was only meant to last one year.  Shiro supposed this was Tatsuo’s way of apologizing for the tart words said earlier in the month.  If it meant well wishes sent in Lance’s direction, then Shiro would accept his implied apology with equal grace.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“This is an interesting surprise.”  Lotor had been summoned from the nursery where he’d been marveling at Sincline’s ability to stand with his mother’s assistance, say ‘dada’ and wave bye bye.  He’d come down the stairs to find his own mother had arrived on the premises and made herself at home by letting furniture movers into his drawing room.</p><p>“Isn’t it still customary to observe a Father’s Day on the third Sunday in June?”  Honerva set a vase full of alstroemeria blooms down on top of the table the movers had just set there.  “You are a father, and I thought you could use some furniture in here.”</p><p>The manor house’s drawing room was situated in the center of the downstairs, just past the entry hall and before the sunroom.  They’d been using it as an extension of the hall instead of a room in its own right.  Lotor was not opposed to having it furnished to host guests for tea, as it appeared that his mother was doing.  He was not even offended by most of her furniture choices, for a change.  The round pedestal table and two tub chairs with gold leaf accents were an appealing mix of old and new styles.</p><p>Why she then had to anchor the room with a wall mirror in a blown glass frame of that red she liked which was the exact shade of offal was beyond him.  It was worse than the red kitchen which looked like something out of <em>The Shining</em> and in which Urinska could often be found stirring things while muttering angrily under her breath, so that was saying something.</p><p>“Come sit with me and let’s have tea,” Honerva said.  “I’ve already instructed your housemaid to bring us a pot and some finger foods.”</p><p>“House steward,” Lotor automatically corrected her, already resigning himself to an afternoon spent in her company dodging questions he didn’t want to answer.  He was learning that when it came to family, one took the bad with the good and that was probably as it should be.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance and Rachel approached the candle stand and made the offering, each of them choosing a votive and lighting it from a candle already burning there.  He had accompanied her to her church on Mott Street on this day to observe this custom with her.  He knew that she was lighting her candle for her father, Silvio Fernández, just as he was lighting his own for Charles McClain.  Later, they would both go home to their own private celebrations and remembrances.  Her, to call their other siblings and remember their father together.  Him, to join his family and give Shiro and Kai their due as new dads.  For now, they observed the meaning of the day together in peaceful silence, in a historic church in Chinatown, in a Catholic parish which had been founded by a Cuban pastor who’d been determined to help immigrants.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Pidge waved at the doorbell camera and let herself in with her old key.  Her parents still hadn’t changed the locks, which was both worrisome and heartwarming.  Though if anyone did manage to steal her key and try to break in they’d then have to deal with her mother, so really the only thing she’d have on her conscience in that case was a stranger’s funeral.  Sam met her in the foyer, coming down the stairs in a bathrobe over sweat pants and a t-shirt just like a dad.</p><p>“Hi honey!”  He came forward for his hug, so Pidge set her takeout bags down on the entryway table and obliged him.  “I wasn’t expecting you today, is everything okay?”</p><p>“It’s great,” she said.  “It’s better than great, and I wanted to share it with you, so I talked Matt into watching Bae Bae for me again and drove on up, I hope it’s okay.”</p><p>“Of course it’s okay.”  Sam smiled indulgently at his daughter.  “Your mom had to go into work, but she’s taking me out to dinner tonight.  You’re welcome to join us.”</p><p>Colleen’s job knew no regular business hours, but if she’d promised Sam a night out there would have to be an emergency for her not to make good on it.  “I don’t want to mess up your plans.”  If there was bamp chicka wow wow on their Father’s Day agenda, she didn’t need to know about it.  Or be anywhere near it, in spite of the fact that she existed because of it and they were kind of celebrating that.  It was a paradoxical thing to consider.</p><p>“Well come on in, tell me your news.”  Sam beckoned her to follow him up the stairs.  “Is that Stella’s?”</p><p>“Cream puffs and cappuccinos,” she confirmed, picking up the bakery bags from the table and following him up to the house’s main level.  </p><p>Cream puffs from Stella’s had been a Holt family Father’s Day tradition ever since there was a Holt family to celebrate Father’s Day.  If she’d stayed in L.A. according to her original plan, she’d have ordered delivery of their three pound assorted cookie box and sent along a goofy card in the mail.  Since she was here in person she’d gone to their location inside a historic hotel in North Beach and picked up fresh puff pastries, bringing them along with her goofy self.  Say, maybe she could commission one of their wedding cakes for the stateside wedding.  That would be nice.</p><p>Still salivating over that thought, she set the bags of goodies down on the dining room table and saw that Matt had sent the three pound box of cookies and a goofy card.  If that card had pictures of Banon dressed as the Easter Bunny in it she was going to make sure to get copies before she left.  She and Sam sat across from each other in cantilever dining chairs, jumping right into the sweet flaky goodness and foamy coffee.</p><p>“Dad,” Pidge finally said after they’d both finished their first pastries, “I’m getting married next summer.”</p><p>Sam laughed and hugged her with a sweet coffee smell still clinging to his whiskers, and Pidge was pretty sure he’d already guessed.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>One of the nice things about Colleen’s rank was having an office.  It wasn’t a large office to be sure, but it had a door that closed and a window that let in sunlight only partially impeded by the press of other buildings.  It was a small thing that helped make up for the fact that Colleen was in her office on a day that was both a weekend and a holiday.  She rocked back in her chair as Orla McQueen wound down her report via web conference.</p><p>“So she rolled on the Ultra Droids.”</p><p><em>“Rolled hard.”</em>  Orla looked grimly satisfied about that.  <em>“She’s given us enough to bring Sendak in for questioning.”</em></p><p>That was delightful news, and Colleen couldn't wait to hear what his excuse was for having come into possession of a truck registered to Amue Herakles.  “But she’s still not budging on Honerva Manigford.”</p><p><em>“No,”</em> Orla said, <em>“but she’s got plenty to say about Lotor.”</em></p><p>Unfortunately Merla’s willingness to turn on Lotor wouldn’t be of much help to Colleen while he remained out of her jurisdictional reach.  But maybe they could rattle his gatekeeper's cage.  Colleen decided to fit in a quick call to Thace before calling it a day and going home to show the father of her children how much she still appreciated him.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Ryan awakened to the smell of fresh coffee and the sounds of his child giggling and his spouse shushing.</p><p>“Daddy’s sleeping.”</p><p>Ryan smiled and turned over in bed.  The hall light was on and the alarm clock said it was late in the morning.  Matt had let him sleep in.  He slid out of the covers and shuffled into bedroom slippers, and heard Matt scuffing out of the nursery again with Banon before he emerged into the hall.  He caught a flash of coppery hair, Matt’s thick and wavy and Banon’s growing back in springy curls, as they disappeared into the kitchen together.  Ryan followed.</p><p>The wonderful smell of bacon frying greeted him in the kitchen.  Matt had taken the skillet off the burner, and was in the process of putting Banon down in his portable playpen while ignoring Bae Bae’s shameless wheedling when he heard Ryan come in behind him.  He turned and smiled at him.  “Happy Father’s Day.  I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.”</p><p>“How about I bring myself to breakfast instead.”  Ryan stepped up into his sweet-smelling warmth and saw that he’d started a batch of johnny cakes in the other skillet.  It was a beautiful morning indeed.</p><p>Matt rested his arms across Ryan’s shoulders and leaned in for a smooch.  “That works too.”</p><p> </p><p>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Chichinohi omedetou!”  Kuro greeted both Shiro and Kai as they came into the dining room for dinner.  “I got you these t-shirts so you can be cool.”</p><p>“I’m cool,” Shiro scoffed as he took the t-shirt out of his little brother’s hand.  The shirt was a grey moisture-wicking material with a graphic design purportedly showing the difference between ranch dressing and cool ranch dressing.  The cool ranch dressing bottle had sunglasses on it.  “Very funny.”</p><p>He and Kai laughed at Kuro’s silly joke as they gathered around the table for a steak dinner prepared by Haruka and Lance.  There was also braised scallops and baked sweet potatoes, and later there would be cake.  If this was how Father’s Day usually went when he was the father, then Shiro could get used to this.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>In the Garrett family, a celebration that featured something cooking over fire in the backyard was a celebration indeed.  Since Keith was looking at the prospect of spending most of July stuck around the house, the trip out to Carson for Father’s Day was a welcome break in the routine.  The crew in attendance was smaller and more intimate than most holidays, as Hina let her rut partner have the kids for the day, and many of the cousins were with their own fathers or children.  Gorou would be spending the day cleaning his parents’ grave site, but he’d call Jin later that night, that being their usual arrangement as he considered Jin an honorary father.  Keith himself had gone out early that morning with Krolia to clean Akira’s grave and burn incense, Akane giving them a lift and Hunk waiting patiently for them to return.</p><p>Now they were waiting patiently for Alana to finish making her huli-huli chicken, as she had grill duties for the day while Jin had the privilege of shooting the breeze with his kids and drinking beer.  Occasionally one of them would toss a squeaky toy out in the yard for Kosmo to fetch and bring back, tail wagging.  Pastel pink and purple clouds drifted overhead in a periwinkle sky as the last of the sun’s golden rays ebbed over the backyard fence.  Keith stood next to Alana, chatting with her while watching her baste and turn the chicken, a lawn chair nearby in case he needed to sit.  It was a peaceful moment with a blessed lack of any urgency attached to it and the promise of a good meal at the end.  Keith, who had been paying close attention to the controlled chaos that ensued whenever he was hanging out with Matt and Banon, was happy to let such quiet moments draw out for as long as possible.</p><p> </p><p>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Raiza sat at her vanity in the red and silver tiled master bath, Roland’s laptop and cell phone set out before her.  In the bedroom behind her, Roland slept deeply, sated by a BJ and a glass of cognac.  Raiza had learned how to crack the passwords on her husband’s electronics, it was just a matter of getting uninterrupted alone time with them, and now she had it, probably for the rest of the night.  She intended to make sure that her grandfather never borrowed her husband’s toys again without her being notified of it immediately so that she could make contingency plans.  A few discreet memos sent from Roland’s personal email account and a few tweaks to his apps, and she should be in the loop.</p><p>She loved her grandfather immensely and owed him much, but she also loved her husband, and the lifestyle he afforded her was only part of that.  Her mother had warned her that the best way to marry well was to marry first for duty and second for love.  Raiza had taken that command more literally than she might have wished.  Grandfather’s actions had enabled her marriage for love, and she was grateful, but now she intended to protect it.  It was the best Father’s Day gift she could possibly give to Roland, even if he never found out about it.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>One of the things Honerva found unpleasant about visiting her son in his home, aside from her son-in-law giving her the ‘here’s your hat what’s your hurry’ routine, was waiting in line at Border Control upon her return.  She endured the long line at the airport because she loved her only child, and because he’d kept the Gulfstream with him, in a private hangar at the nearest civilian airport to the manor.  A mother’s love knew levels of patience she’d never have offered to anyone else of her acquaintance.</p><p>An acquaintance slid up next to her in line.  “How would you like to get out of here?”</p><p>Honerva looked sidelong at Thace.  He wasn’t offering her a sexual liaison.  He was offering her an expedited trip through Border Control that probably had a return favor of some sort attached to it.  “What’s it going to cost me?”</p><p>“Nothing but a little of your time.”</p><p>He was after information trading then.  “All right.”  She was as good at bluffing as he was, and she hated waiting in lines.</p><p>Thace was as good as his word and got her past the security protocols relatively painlessly.  They walked outside of the terminal, where they climbed into the comfortably padded backseat of a Mercedes S-Class sedan.  Thace signaled to the driver, who raised the partition and pulled away from the curb.  He offered her refreshments.  She declined.</p><p>“I suppose you’ve heard that your employee Merla Morgan is in F.B.I. custody for grand theft auto and multiple counts of assault and attempted murder,” he said as casually as discussing the weather.</p><p>Only attempted murder?  “I had no idea.”  She’d hoped that Merla would accomplish her objective before getting caught, but had known there was a chance she would not.  Narti Perdana had been one of her best operatives before Acxa Price somehow got her hooks in.</p><p>“So you didn’t know that Morgan was attempting to kill your grandchildren?”</p><p>Honerva wasn’t going to bite that hook.  “I only have one grandchild.”</p><p>Thace smiled.  “Morgan hasn’t contacted you?”</p><p>“No.”  Honerva narrowed her eyes at Thace.  “She’s not required to check in with me when she’s on vacation.”</p><p>“Hmm.”  Thace looked out the window at traffic rolling by.  “So you don’t know anything about her dealing with gang members associated with a criminal named Macidus Drew?”</p><p>Damn it, she’d told Merla not to go anywhere near that chaff.  “No.”</p><p>“And you don’t know anything about a conspiracy between Macidus Drew and Koloman Maahox to kidnap your ex-husband?”</p><p>“What the hell is this?”  Of course she’d known Maahox would eventually go after Zarkon, but what the hell did her son’s ex-pusher have to do with any of it?</p><p>“It’s a plot to ensure that your youngest grandchild becomes an alpha whether it’s written in his genes or not.”</p><p>Honerva laughed at him.  “That’s preposterous, nobody knows for sure what the mechanism– ”  Except there were credible published hypotheses on how to circumvent the mechanism.  “There is no ethical way to do– ”  Neither of the people Thace had mentioned were known for their respect for conventional ethics.  “If they used donor DNA, that would require an immense biological sacrifi– ”  They probably had that sacrifice in hand, actually.  “What the hell?”</p><p>Thace stared her down.  “I believe that's my line.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Rachel volunteered to pick up her mother from the airport and bring her over to the house in time for a weekday dinner, and they’d decided to make it a family affair for that first night.  Vibiana would have been on a plane for three hours and there would be plenty of opportunities for her to break bread with Daniel and Ren on future days.  Lance launched into a bout of nesting, making sure that either of the two free guest rooms would be ready to receive his mother.  Kuro was staying in the one she’d used the last time.</p><p>When Vibiana finally came in the parlor floor door, she embraced Lance and kissed his face and then she leaned down and kissed his belly, her warm chamomile scent surrounding him, and a sense of rightness soothed over a little unsettled corner of his heart.  She had hugs for Kuro and Shiro, and then Lance helped her unpack in the flowery guest room that Shinji had stayed in, while Rachel went down to the kitchen to help Haruka set the table.  Lance wasn’t surprised that Mamá picked that room, honestly.  It was the frilliest.  Like the guest room right next door to it, this room had a reach-in closet with a built-in organizer and bifold doors.  This became an issue when they realized it wasn’t quite big enough to house the greatness that was Rachel’s nearly-complete wedding gown.</p><p>“Just use the walk-in closet in the nursery, Mamá,” Lance said.  “It’s right downstairs and you’ll want the dress form and mirror in that closet for Rachel’s fittings anyway.”</p><p>“But mijo, that room is for chiquita.”  Vibiana patted Lance’s stomach and let her hand linger when the baby rolled under it.</p><p>“We won’t need it for the baby for another few weeks at least,” Lance said.  “Besides, Rachel’s probably going to want the gown moved over to her place in time for the pre-wedding photo shoot.”  Ren had hired a photographer who was going to take pictures of Rachel and Daniel for one very long day all over Central Park. </p><p>“Pre-wedding?”  Vibiana sounded alarmed.  “In this gown?”  She held the garment bag against herself protectively.</p><p>“They’re using rented clothes for the outdoor pictures, but I think she wanted at least one indoor staging wearing the real gown.”  Rachel’s wedding reception didn’t have a cocktail hour to cover a post-wedding photo shoot in the full chapel regalia.  She was probably going to be too busy changing clothes between the ceremony and the start of the banquet to even think of doing that anyway.</p><p>“Well it had better be an indoor staging without her groom in it,” Vibiana grumbled, but she allowed Lance to lead her downstairs into the nursery.  </p><p>He walked in and turned on the overhead light.  Atlas rolled over on the faded rose rug, blinking and meowing grumpily.  He was mostly over his snit from the bassinet incident.  “Sorry to interrupt nap time, kitty.”</p><p>“Oh, Lancito.”  Vibiana looked around the room smiling.  “It’s precious.”</p><p>They’d finally brought in everything, adding bedtime story and supply shelves to go with the crib and changing table, and botanical prints they’d discovered in the basement storage closet which blended with the color scheme they’d decided on.  The crib sheets had not been put on the mattress, and the baby clothes not yet put away, but everything was at least now present in the room.  Except for diapers and maybe a few other items Lance hadn’t thought of yet.  The diapers they did have stocked were all in Midori’s size.  At least they had plenty of baby powder, wipes and tushie cream already on hand.</p><p>Lance opened up the walk-in closet and Vibiana laughed to see it basically unchanged from the last time she’d been there.  “So what’s all of this then?” she teased as she made space in the racks for Rachel’s gown.  “These don’t look like baby clothes.”</p><p>“It’s motivation,” Lance said.  He was going to fit back into those clothes someday, and access to Shiro’s gym was going to help him do it.  The Pilates and dojo lessons were helping him stay strong and within Doctor Gorma’s guidelines for healthy weight gain, but he missed being able to just burst into a run whenever he wanted to, for no other reason than that he wanted to.  He privately vowed that someday he would turn cartwheels again.</p><p>Rachel came into the nursery to fetch them for dinner and found them carefully taking her gown out of the garment bag.  Naturally she wanted to try it on right away, so they closed the door and Mamá helped her out of her street clothes and into the gown.  She stood in front of the walk-in closet mirror, hair held up in one hand, as glorious to behold as a rose in full blossom.  Lance had been right in his prediction that there would be a shit-ton of organza ruffles on the skirt.</p><p>“Mija, you look beautiful.”  Vibiana was close to tears and Lance was only a second or two behind.  He waved air over his hot cheeks to delay the inevitable.</p><p>Rachel smiled at them in bemusement.  “Why are you two sniffling?  Weddings are happy occasions!”</p><p>“That’s why!” Lance said, and then the waterworks broke past the dam and he and Mamá were both bawling like little babies.</p><p>Rachel went out of the walk-in closet and came back in with Midori’s baby wipes, holding out the container for each of them like a majestic angel.  “You are both so silly.”</p><p>“You know what I think is silly,” Vibiana sniffled, wiping her tears with a baby wipe.  “You, letting your groom see that gown before the wedding.”</p><p>“Mamá!”  </p><p>It seemed that this was one aspect about which Ren was not superstitious.  But in the end, Rachel agreed that she should be understanding as to why Vibiana was, and together they sketched out a plan for the photographer to take pictures of Rachel trying on her gown while her mother pretended to make adjustments to it as she was wearing it.  It would make a dramatic picture in its own right that told the story of both the wedding and the gown.  If they had to entice the photographer to take the pictures here in this house instead of across the bridge at Rachel’s place, then Lance assured them that it would be no trouble.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Rachel’s bridal shower was hosted by Kiere, in a little two storey brick house she shared with her grandmother and aunt.  Rachel picked up Lance, Mamá and Kuro, and they drove out to Astoria, parking on the curb near a garden gate guarded by two stone lions.  Ren would not be joining them.  Her family didn’t really do bridal showers, as ensuring that the engaged couple would be able to set up a household was what the betrothal gift giving ceremony was for.  Lance’s family didn’t really have a history of doing them either.  Multifamily households had been the norm, and if anyone was going to throw a party to collect items for a wedding it would be for ensuring as kickass a reception as possible.  But Kiere wanted to do this for Rachel, so here they were.</p><p>Kuro helped Lance hoist himself up out of the back seat while Mamá took it upon herself to carry the gift bag, and the four of them strolled up the concrete walkway, passing under the shade of a shining willow tree as they stepped up onto the front porch and rang the bell.  Kiere welcomed them inside a small entryway where she had house slippers waiting for them.  In Lance’s growing experience, not a lot of households in New York expected guests to take off their shoes, but the ones that did always had slippers ready.  Rachel and Kuro giggled as they held Lance upright while Mamá smilingly scolded them as she shuffled him out of his sneakers (he had broken down and gotten the velcro ones like Doctor Ebb suggested he should) and into house slippers.  Then they were led into a small comfortable living room with a huge sectional couch and about a half a dozen cocktail tables of varying sizes and shapes.  Pink balloons decorated the room, and the gifts were arranged on a table placed under the window.</p><p>Kiere had invited three of Rachel’s friends from college.  Monica, Anna and Valeria were short, cute betas one and all.  If Lance had been a little bit more single and a little bit less pregnant he’d have been as bodacious a flirt as possible.  They’d barely sat down when an elderly woman came out of the kitchen balancing a round silver tray with tea service for eight on it.  Lance reflexively tried to get up off the couch to help her and discovered that gravity wanted to keep him in the cushions, but Kiere was already jumping to her feet to take the tray, beating the others to the punch.</p><p>“Nona, you didn’t have to bring this all the way over here by yourself.”</p><p>“It’s nothing,” her grandmother insisted, but she let Kiere take the full weight of the tray and move it to the largest cocktail table.  “I made chamomile for you.”</p><p>“Thank you, Nona.”  Kiere smiled at her grandmother before pouring the amber tea with the familiar appley scent into the cups and passing them around.</p><p>“It’s good for you,” Kiere’s grandmother said to Lance specifically, and he was weak for grandmas who made tea, especially when it was chamomile tea, so he gratefully accepted a top up on his cup.</p><p>Then Kiere served assorted tea sandwiches, and Lance was glad that she had plenty of options that didn’t feature anything that was on his ‘nope I’m pregnant’ list.  He was able to have his fill before the sparkling cocktails were poured and the games started.  Since he obviously couldn’t have any of the bubbly, Kiere made him a Shirley Temple sans the cherry garnish.  Then the guests were all challenged to come up with their own cocktail using the ingredients in front of them.  Whoever won would have a signature drink named in their honor at the reception.</p><p>Lance figured this was a no-pressure proposition for him, since everybody was going to be getting crunk on baiju anyway and he might not even be there himself.  So he whipped up a party punch using prosecco, a splash of ginger ale, a splish of grenadine and a sploosh of the cooling chamomile tea over ice.  He couldn’t even taste test his concoction but it looked pretty and it smelled good.  Rachel declared it the winner and said she would call it The Lancito.  So, now Lance would definitely be there in spirit even if he couldn’t be there in person.</p><p>Next up was the toilet paper wedding dress game.  If the college girls’ reaction was anything to go by, this game was a popular staple at this kind of party.  Kiere divided them up into Team School and Team Fam and instructed them to pick a dress model and then dress that person up in toilet paper and scotch tape.  They had fifteen minutes, and then Rachel would judge their masterpieces.  The winners got cake flavored chapsticks.</p><p>Lance’s team unanimously decided that Kuro should be the model, and then he and his mother got to work turning him into a TP pinup.  Vibiana got to work, really.  Lance, who couldn’t bend down anymore, mostly just tried to keep her ruffle love in check.  They only had six mega-rolls to work with, if she kept taping on ruffles then Kuro was going to be a topless bride.  Finally they had a gown on him, with seconds ticking down on the timer.  They’d given him a bandeau bodice with a giant pouf of a skirt from looped toilet paper.</p><p>“Something looks unbalanced,” Vibiana said as they surveyed their handiwork.</p><p>If Kuro looked unbalanced it was because she’d given him the silhouette of a feather duster.  No, wait, on second thought she was right, there was something else.  Lance snapped his fingers and then snatched up the last roll of toilet paper.  </p><p>“We forgot the veil!”  He quickly twist-tied a Juliet cap onto Kuro’s head, just in the nick of time.</p><p>“That looks much better,” Vibiana said, and Lance agreed.</p><p>They turned to survey the competition.  Team School had wrapped Kiere in a mermaid style, and they’d given her one of those veils that Lance didn’t think rightly should be called a veil because it was just fabric hanging off the back of a bun, what was it really veiling?  She did look great, though.  They’d even remembered to create a bouquet out of TP roses and a cardboard roll.  It wasn’t looking too good for Team Fam.</p><p>Rachel made the models strut across the living room for the full effect.  Kiere had the 'diamond is forever' ad music on a sound file for extra atmosphere.  Kuro walked across the carpet with the TP loops bouncing gracefully around his legs, the ends of the veil fluttering gently in the air conditioning because if there was one thing Juliet caps did well it was to stay on the bride’s head even when they were moving and air was blowing on them.  Lance still wasn’t sold on fluffy gowns, but Kuro made that one look good.</p><p>Kiere began her turn striking an elegant pose and Lance was sure Team Fam’s chances were done.  She looked like one of those models who goes down the runway last in a couture show.  But then she tried to strut in her mermaid gown and almost took a header into a cocktail table.  Anna reached out to steady her back on her feet and accidentally caused a wardrobe malfunction.  Thank goodness she wasn’t actually naked under there.  Rachel declared it a draw and everybody got cake flavored chapsticks.</p><p>The final game wasn’t a competition.  They were all given stationery cards to write down their favorite date night plans using watercolor markers, which they could also use to decorate the cards if they wanted to.  The only real rule was that the suggestions had to be ideas that Rachel and Daniel could realistically pull off, no fantasy dates.  The suggestion cards were all going into a stationery box that Rachel would take home with her, but first they each got to read their favorite date night out loud.</p><p>Valeria suggested a photo booth date night at the mall.  Anna suggested DIY boudoir photos and Lance was certain he heard Kiere’s grandmother call upon the Lord from the kitchen.  Monica suggested taking selfies in the crown of the Statue of Liberty.  So, there was a whole photo theme going on with that trio.  They knew Rachel and Daniel’s instagram story well.  Though maybe not, because if those two tried to do boudoir photos it would probably just end up being self-timed pics of them having a pillow fight.</p><p>Kiere suggested skipping stones at Willowbrook Lake, which Lance thought was an interesting idea for a date and probably something Kiere herself had done before with Aldar.  Kuro suggested a day of museum hopping, which was something Lance knew he’d done on a date with Pidge.  Vibiana suggested a long stroll on a quiet path under the moonlight, and Lance felt like the hormone tears might be coming back around, but he didn’t have time for that because it was his turn.  This had been a challenge, because all of his best dates had been with Shiro, and a lot of those qualified as fantasy dates according to the rules of this game.  But he had one suggestion that he thought was a winner.</p><p>“Make Mima’s spaghetti recipe for a romantic dinner at home.”</p><p>Carolína wiggled in his belly at that, so the suggestion at least won her stamp of approval.  He rubbed his belly, and then submitted to a round of letting other people pet his belly, an event that was becoming more and more commonplace the bigger he got.  He figured it was because they got the thrill of cuddling a baby without the threat of that baby crying or spitting up on them.  Caro always seemed to eat it up, too, wriggling obligingly for every press of hands.  Shiro said she must have inherited Lance’s love of the razzle dazzle, but Lance thought it was Shiro’s own flair for the dramatic that must have wound up in their little girl’s genes.</p><p>Kiere served up pink cupcakes and then it was time for the last activity of the bridal shower, which was the opening of gifts.  Rachel and Daniel had not opened a registry, as both sides of the family traditionally favored monetary gifts.  Marco was already lobbying for a money dance at the reception.  So, it was anyone’s guess what would be revealed when Rachel tore off the wrapping paper.</p><p>Rachel opened Mamá’s present first, and it was a tall peineta comb to wear with her mantilla veil.  Lance could see the thoughts working behind the eyes of Rachel’s college friends on how that was supposed to fit on top of her head, but the thing was, Rachel’s bun was going to be enormous.  She needed a comb this big just to keep the veil in place and balance it out visually.  Rachel was thrilled with the gift, and tried it on immediately.  It added almost a foot to her height.  It was perfect.</p><p>Kiere had gotten Rachel a pretty cake stand, to use at her reception and beyond.  Monica and Valeria had thrown in on a gift card to have her wedding portrait professionally matted and framed.  Kuro had gotten a custom stamp set similar to the one the Shinobus had given Keith a couple of years earlier.  In fact, he probably got it from the same stationery store, Lance knew Shiro had been there recently looking for materials to make a calligraphy poster.  Anna got Rachel a negligee, and Lance could definitely see genuflecting happening in the kitchen out of the corner of his eye.  It seemed that Anna had assumed this would be the lingerie type of bridal shower.</p><p>That just left Lance’s gift, which also had lingerie in it, though nobody would know that if he’d done his job properly.  Rachel opened it up and found the handkerchief he’d made for her.  He’d used crisp cotton dyed pale blue and trimmed with the lace he’d culled from the old nursing bras, and then cross-stitched the couple’s names and their wedding date in the middle.  He’d also included a little note reading ‘something old and something blue’ to let her know she now had those stipulations covered.</p><p>“Thank you, hermanito.”  Rachel hugged him tight on the couch.  “It’s just exactly right.”</p><p>It was just exactly right, and Lance was more thankful to Kiere than she might ever know because by insisting on performing the custom of a bridal shower she’d given him an opportunity to share in his sister’s wedding in more than an adjacent capacity.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Pidge was studying on her apartment’s small balcony with Bae Bae lounging at her bare feet in the summer sun.  A warbler took a bug-chasing break to rest on the balcony railing, trilling out a song and shaking its yellow rump until Bae Bae found enough energy to roll halfway to her feet and then the warbler took off again.  Bae Bae lay back down with a doggie yawn which was part whine.</p><p>“Are you ready for a break, girl?”</p><p>Bae Bae’s ears perked.  To her, ‘break’ meant walkies, and sometimes people food, so really that question was just rhetorical.  She was born ready.  Before Pidge could follow that promise up with action, her phone chimed.  She picked it up off the patio table and saw an alert that Kuro had sent her an image, did she want to open it.  Hells yes.</p><p>She opened the image to the sight of Kuro posing in somebody’s living room wearing yards of white fluff.  <em>I like the cap</em>, read the caption.  Pidge was quick with the reply.  <em>I like the everything esp. the you part</em>.</p><p>She got a response of smile and blush emojis before, <em>Do you think it would be ok for me to wear this cap in our California wedding?</em>  Then, a second later, <em>Not this specific cap it is toilet paper but a cap like this?</em></p><p>Pidge gave his question careful consideration.  Although it was a traditional option because of her primary gender, Pidge had never dreamed of wearing a white princess gown at her own wedding.  Her mother might have harbored some sentimental feelings for the notion, but she should have gotten that out of her system with Matt’s wedding, which had been sentimental to the nines.  When Pidge thought of her own wedding, she mostly thought of how pretty Kuro would look, happy and surrounded by flowers.  As far as the eventual Shinto ceremony in Japan went, Tatsuo could put her in anything he wanted and as long as it made Kuro happy Pidge was in.</p><p>What Tatsuo wanted would most likely be montsuki with the Shirogane crest on it, since he seemed dead set on continuing the Shirogane line through Kuro.  Pidge was fine with wearing montsuki.  She realized she also wouldn’t feel robbed if she wore pants to her San Francisco wedding.  She wasn’t sure if she wanted to wear a tux or not, but she definitely didn’t want to be swamped in frills.  Well, there she had her answer.</p><p>
  <em>Tesoro, you wear whatever your heart desires and I will love it, because I love you.</em>
</p><p>The rest could just work itself out.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The doorbell chimed melodiously from the parlor floor level.  Lance peeked out of the nursery windows into the pale blue morning.  Daniel and his grandmother were down on the front stoop carrying tall straw nesting baskets which contained the betrothal gifts.  As soon as Shiro let them in, they were going to distribute the gifts one at the time while explaining their auspicious symbolism, probably in the dining room because the biggest table in the house was in there.  Lance wasn’t really supposed to be in the room while they did this because of the clash of joy.  He supposed this was a good way to ensure that a new mother didn’t accidentally get exposed to someone’s cold at the worst possible time, but he’d rather be in the thick of it if he was being honest.</p><p>After a couple of hours of polite socializing and some pictures, Daniel and Ren left again and Lance went downstairs to find the gifts laid out on the dining room table.  Rachel and Mamá only had a couple of hours to sort out the gifts that must be returned and add them to the gifts they’d already prepared, before they needed to be on their way to Ren’s apartment.  They were going to need some help, and Haruka and Kai were already busy putting up the red banner over the front door, where it would announce the happy news of the upcoming wedding.  Since the door games and first tea ceremony were also going to be held at the brownstone, they’d decided the betrothal gift banner should stay there, and some of the double happiness stickers would be placed on the door of Rachel’s apartment.</p><p>The table was replete with red-wrapped food stuffs in even numbered amounts.  There was also a red envelope with gold writing on it, as well as tall candles and beautiful gold bangles, both decorated with a dragon and phoenix motif.  Lance wasn’t supposed to touch the gifts before they were distributed, but he could make sure that everybody involved in the task of dividing them got fed, so he circled around the dining room table to get to the kitchen and that was when he noticed an open red box containing a whole roast suckling pig.  The noise he made upon that sight was entirely dignified and not an extended nonverbal sound of astonishment that made him sound like Atlas reacting to chicken in his presence.  This he would swear, even when Rachel recounted the story otherwise much later to the hilarity of their siblings.</p><p>“Do you think I could get away with asking Pidge’s mother to bring one of those to the yuino?” Kuro asked, staring at the pig with a hunger that put Lance’s to shame.</p><p>“They gave me lechón for Rachel being a virgin.”  Vibiana looked like she was trying to work out whether she should be appalled about that or not.</p><p>“It’s symbolic,” Shiro said, probably intending to soothe her.  “Like the white dress.”</p><p>Lance and Rachel shrugged at each other.  She was a virgin, and that was just a simple fact.  Also, there was lechón!</p><p>“We have to send the feet and head back with the return gifts,” Rachel said.</p><p>“I will handle that for you,” Vibiana said, grasping the red box to lift it off the table.  “Lancito, you go and get the bread, pickles and cheese together.”</p><p>Then they had midnight sandwiches in the middle of the day, and the groom’s gift bestowed on his new mother-in-law was summarily well appreciated by the bride’s extended family.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Shiro had grown accustomed to coming home to some degree of cheerful chaos ever since bringing Lance home to stay with him.  He was gradually growing accustomed to even more since having Kuro in the house.  But on this occasion, as he let himself in on the garden floor while Kai went around the block to park, a most familiar routine, he heard the most unfamiliar sounds of screaming and crying in Spanish and he was vaulting up the stairs before he could think.  Then an old lady’s voice yelling that a crazy woman had the devil inside of her reminded Shiro abruptly that Vibiana had, in a very short amount of time, gotten his entire household addicted to telenovelas.  They’d been streaming older series in the rear parlor together whenever there were two or more of them in the house with an hour to spare.  Vibiana called it ‘a grounding in the basics.’</p><p>Shiro’s suspicion was confirmed as he followed the escalating shouting and music to the rear parlor, where they were all gathered on the couches watching a violently angry brunette throw people across the television screen like a pro wrestler.  Haruka leaned forward from her chair as if she could interfere with the action via the temper in her eyes.  Vibiana sat between Lance and Kuro, patting both of their hands, as Kuro sat frozen in fear while Lance sat in sympathetic tears.  Midori played in her playpen behind Haruka’s chair, completely unaffected by the nonsense playing out on the TV.</p><p>“That lady is scary,” said Kuro.</p><p>“I know, nene,” said Vibiana, “I know.”</p><p>“Why do all of those people just stand there?” Haruka demanded, waving at the screen.  “Nandito is injured!”</p><p>On the screen a bunch of well-dressed people stood over two beautiful crying teenagers as if they were performance art.  Crying right along with the teenagers in unselfconscious openmouthed sobs was Lance.  Shiro knelt beside him and reached over the arm of the couch to rub his back.</p><p>“Honey, it’s okay,” he said.  The fact that it was just a TV show was not the correct way to talk down a hormonally overwrought Lance.  Shiro had already learned that one the hard way.</p><p>“They were going to get married,” Lance stammered out between tears as his mother patted his hand.  “But now he’s been stabbed!”</p><p>On the television screen, Nandito had managed to stumble into a hallway to threaten the crazy woman while clutching a bleeding elbow, then stumble back to the room and pass out dramatically in the doorway.  One of the useless bystanders finally bent to assist him, all the while complaining that it didn’t look that serious to him.</p><p>“I don’t think that’s a fatal blow,” Shiro said, still rubbing Lance’s back.  “I’m sure Nandito will be fine.”</p><p>“Do you promise?”  Lance turned to him with big tear-damp eyes.</p><p>Shiro had no clue how this telenovela ended.  He dared to glance past Lance to Vibiana, who nodded.  “Yes,” Shiro said.  “I promise.”</p><p>He could only hope that future promises against tears could be as succinctly dealt with as this one was.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just realized that the TP wedding dress game is probably functionally extinct.  ?c(ﾟ.ﾟ*)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Month Nine: Closing Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lance and Keith each face challenges approaching their due dates.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to everyone who has read, kudoed and commented on this fic!  You are all so wonderful!</p><p>This chapter has some scenes that might be squicky to some.  Childbirth is inherently juicy.  I don't think I got too graphic with it, but I know mileage varies considerably on how much is too much, so I guess this constitutes a warning: maybe don't be eating anything while reading.</p><p>Edit: no new material in this chapter, just fixing an oops, but the epilogue should be up shortly.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>Keith had helped Ilun sort through the probationary employees for the most promising ones to promote.  They’d had a going away party for him in the Bordeaux room, with cake and music and an awesomely stupid slide show.  It had been bittersweet.  Keith had never been good at goodbyes, even when they promised a prelude to even greater happiness.  Since then, the only time he’d been out of the house for longer than it took to walk Kosmo had been his prenatal exams, which had involved swabs, sticks and a non-stress test, so he wouldn’t exactly call that a fun time out.  It had felt natural to call Lance and bitch about it.</p><p>“Sunny wasn’t moving as much as Doctor Page wanted to see, even though his heart rate was fine, so they made me drink this nasty orange stuff to get him moving.”  Then they’d done a glucose tolerance screening afterward; since he’d chugged the sugar they figured might as well.  “We checked out normal on everything, except Sunny still won’t turn around.”  He was still head down facing the wrong way, and Keith was pretty sure it was giving Doctor Page more stress than it was giving Keith himself.  “They’ve scheduled me for a biophysical profile in a couple weeks.”</p><p><em>“I feel you, man.”</em>  Lance’s face was glum in the video chat.  <em>“I tested positive for group B strep.  They’re gonna have to put me on an IV drip of antibiotics during labor and they’re sending me for an NST and BPP in a couple of weeks too.  If they don’t like the results of the BPP they might do a contraction stress test.”</em></p><p>“Ouch.”  Keith reflexively put his hands over his chest, which was just starting to show a little swell.  “With the nipples?”</p><p>Lance nodded.  <em>“Yup.”</em>  Lance’s chest had budded out the week before.  He’d sent out some ridiculous before and after pictures of himself in tight shirts, and Pidge had complained about it (thus inadvertently egging Lance on) until Shay sent out her own before and after pics and shut the whole thing down.  <em>“They have you counting kicks?”</em></p><p>“Twice a day.”  Sunny was most active after meals.</p><p>
  <em>“You wanna join our telenovela watching parties?”</em>
</p><p>This was Lance trying to lighten the mood with a change of subject, but Keith wasn’t in any kind of mood to call him out on it.  “Sure, sounds like a gas.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Hunk heard angry women screaming as soon as he opened the front door.  He dropped everything in his hands and ran through the kitchen into the living room, expecting to find his mother and mother-in-law had changed their minds about accepting Sunny’s name and come to blows.  What he found was Keith on the cuddle couch with a bag of chips open in his lap and Kosmo right next to him ready to hoover up any chip crumbs.  The angry screaming women were on the television screen, one of them dragging the other one around another living room by the hair as an Afghan hound looked on.  Keith’s iPad was propped up on an end table, and in it Hunk could see the interior of yet another living room, where Lance and his crew appeared to be watching the same show.</p><p>“Hey babe,” Keith said.</p><p><em>“Hi Hunk,”</em> said Lance from the tablet.</p><p>“Heeey,” Hunk said.  <em>Whatever this is, accept it and move on</em>, said his wise inner alpha.  “How about I make us some dinner that we can eat on the couch?”</p><p>Keith smiled up at him around a potato chip and gave him the thumbs up.</p><p>And that was how Hunk also got sucked into the telenovelas.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Hey everybody.”  Pidge let herself and Bae Bae into the backyard where Ryan was turning chicken on the pellet grill, causing a delightfully spicy burst of fragrance to waft through the air.  “I brought the vegetable food group and the obligatory dog.”  She’d picked up a tub of potato salad at a deli the day before.</p><p>Ryan looked over his shoulder with a smile.  “Thanks Pidge.  This should be ready in just about ten minutes.”</p><p>Bae Bae went over to stand by him trying to look pitiful, but Pidge didn’t think the dog’s stomach could handle the rub Ryan had put on that chicken.  Bae Bae might forgive them for not giving her chicken when they let her have a hot dog later.  Pidge set the potato salad down on the patio table and helped herself to a bottle of cola from the cooler.  “Need any help?”</p><p>“I do.”  Matt leaned out of the door leading from the back porch into the kitchen.  “Come in here and help me pit some peaches.”</p><p>Pidge hopped up the porch steps.  “For the grill?”  She did love grilled peaches.</p><p>“Yep,” Matt said, “gonna put some mascarpone on ‘em.”</p><p>“Nice.”  This low-key fourth of July picnic was gonna rock.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The house was full of Garretts and Manabus, and the backyard grill was full of pork belly and ribs.  Hunk and Keith’s backyard was considerably smaller than Jin and Alana’s, so the laughing conversations were much less dispersed and tended to overlap until it became difficult to tell where one conversation began and the next one ended.  It was a foregone conclusion that there were going to be fireworks all over the place as soon as it got dark enough, so they’d preemptively put Kosmo in a ThunderShirt.</p><p>Keith retreated indoors with the kids to play Mario Kart and scarf the Marmatates that the moms had brought over as appetizers.  His recent time off had given him the advantage of more practice, so he was kicking their butts on Rainbow Road.  Kosmo, having given up on the hope that one of the big people was going to let him have a piece of pork belly, had come in with them to offer his comfort and receive free pats as one kid after another fell to Keith’s prowess on the hairpin turns.  This holiday was both smaller and louder than the previous one when they’d all gone to Carson.  As he won the cup and bragging rights for many a future holiday, Keith decided smaller and louder was fine by him.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The brownstone had teak patio furniture and a container garden up on the roof.  Mostly it was used by Haruka to grow herbs and vegetables for the kitchen and start seedlings for the backyard garden.  It was also a nice place to retreat for a little peace and quiet if one of the other rooms in the house wouldn’t do for whatever reason.  On this night it was the site for a small fireworks viewing party consisting of just the residents of the household.  A similar party was taking place on Rachel’s balcony across the Hudson, allowing the young couple to get in a little quiet time before wedding craziness completed its temporary takeover of their lives.  For having the benefit of a longer engagement, the scope of Rachel’s wedding still promised to rival Lance’s for last minute frenzied activity.</p><p>But there would be no frenzied activity tonight.  Tonight, Lance could sit back under the tomato trellis and let Shiro rub his feet while Kuro trained binoculars in the direction of the East River.  The Shinobus cuddled their daughter on the other love seat, and Lance’s mother tried to get everybody to eat more avocado salad because she’d made too much and it didn’t keep well.  After stuffing himself silly on her mojo chicken, Lance wasn’t sure he had any room left for more salad.  She was determined to garlic the GBS out of him, and though he knew that wouldn’t change the fact that he’d need antibiotics during labor, he was still willing to let her try.</p><p>This was a much less glamorous evening than the previous year, when he and Shiro had taken a dinner cruise for a close and comfortable vantage point to watch the fireworks. They’d boarded a yacht where they’d been entertained with live music and provided with hors d’oeuvres, a multi-course meal and an open bar before going out on deck to watch the fireworks in the open sky above them.  But this was comfortable in a way both plainer and more appealing to Lance right at that moment.</p><p>“I think I see something,” said Kuro.  He had turned to point his binoculars down toward Central Park.</p><p>“I think you’re seeing some sparkling devices being set off,” Shiro said, though he didn’t look over there.  The roof was not one of his favorite places, so him being willing to do this for his family was kind of a big deal.  “The big fireworks are going to be fired from barges near the Brooklyn Bridge.  We’re not close enough to get the full effect, but we should be able to see them rising above the skyline with the naked eye.”</p><p>Lance checked his watch.  Any minute now.  And then it started, with a faint sound like popcorn popping.  Balls of colorful light expanded in showers of sparks, before fading and blooming anew as fresh shells rose to take their place.  Kai and Haruka pointed out the lights rising over the rooftops to Midori, who looked on with the wonder of the very young.  Lance felt his own young one shift in his belly as he enjoyed the night.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith took his mother with him to the biophysical profile appointment.  She hadn’t been to one of his appointments yet, and he wanted to share some of this with her.  Since he’d already passed a non-stress test, they were skipping the fetal monitoring belts and moving straight to the ultrasound.  Nurse Ware moved the transducer over his now very large stomach while Doctor Page timed Sunny’s practice breaths of amniotic fluid, and his kicks and stretches in the womb.  Sunny passed each of those checks, still had adequate amniotic fluid and his heart rate increased when expected, but he was still OP.  Otherwise known as sunny side up.</p><p>“Your score is great,” said Doctor Page, “but I’ll be frank, the fact he still hasn’t turned around when he’s so big worries me.”</p><p>Sunny was estimated at seven and a half pounds and liable to gain another pound or three before birth if he arrived on time.</p><p>Krolia squeezed Keith’s hand as she asked, “Are there any exercises he can do to encourage the baby to turn around?”</p><p>“A birthing ball is a good option,” Nurse Ware spoke up.  “I know a doula who runs a training workshop, I can put a word in for you.”</p><p>Keith and Krolia left the BPP appointment with test results in hand and plans to attend the doula’s workshop together the next day.  Their immediate plans were to go to a supercenter on the way home to pick up a yoga ball to bring with them to the class.  Hunk would be meeting them for dinner at the house before he drove Krolia back to the apartment, since she was currently driving Keith around in his car.</p><p>“Try not to let it worry you too much, sweetie.”  She cruised around the parking lot looking for a space where Keith wouldn’t have to walk too far.  “You were sunny side up too, and you came out just fine.”</p><p>What she wasn’t mentioning was the fact that Sunny was already about a pound bigger than Keith had been at birth, and probably destined to become even bigger by week forty.  Doctor Page was no longer concerned about whether Keith could bring Sunny to term, they all knew he could do it.  Now what the doctor was worried about was whether Keith could deliver safely if spontaneous labor started.  The option of a C-section was the unspoken offer on the table, but Keith was still hoping he wouldn’t have to take it up.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>By the day of Lance’s appointment, Carolína had dropped lower into his pelvis, easing his breathing and heartburn but forcing him to waddle everywhere he went.  This time his appointment was in Doctor Gorma’s office, and Vibiana was the one accompanying him.  After taking his urine donation in the bathroom, Nurse Anga helped Lance up onto the table and strapped two belts over his strapping belly to monitor uterine contractions and Caro’s heart rate.  Lance smiled at his mother’s excited reaction to Caro’s heartbeat on the monitor.</p><p>The baby was as active as she usually was, so they had her fetal heart rate acceleration score by the time Doctor Gorma joined them in the exam room.  As they waited to see if Lance would have a Braxton Hicks contraction which could give them her deceleration score, Doctor Gorma went over Lance’s urine work-up results.</p><p>“I don’t see any signs of a bladder or kidney infection, and your blood sugar is within normal range.”  Doctor Gorma proceeded to apply a fundal grip to palpate Lance’s upper abdomen, not just to check the position of the baby but also in the hopes of eliciting a false labor contraction.  “Baby still appears to be in head down position facing mother’s spine.  Excellent.”</p><p>Then Lance felt the tightening across his belly as the second monitor began to peak.  Braxton Hicks contractions were distinctly uncomfortable but not so painful that he felt the need to control his breathing through them.  Still, he was thankful when Nurse Anga brought him a paper cup of water to drink.  Pleased with Caro’s deceleration score, Doctor Gorma proceeded on to the BPP test, as Nurse Anga removed the two monitors and jelled up his belly for the transducer.  The doctor was happy with Caro’s scores there, too.  Lance was happy to watch his mother coo over the baby’s moving form on the monitor.</p><p>“All of your scores are checking out perfectly,” Doctor Gorma finally said.  “Group B strep is no cause for concern in a healthy adult, especially omegas who have higher natural resistance to opportunistic infections than anyone, but infant immune systems are much more vulnerable.  There is a chance the bacteria could pass to the baby during delivery, and if that occurred she wouldn’t be able to fight it off as easily.  In most young mothers as healthy as yourself, and with such good test scores, I would encourage you to labor at home for as long as possible, but with GBS I’m going to strongly recommend that you come in as soon as you begin active labor, to ensure the ideal time frame for your doses of antibiotics.  If your membrane ruptures before labor begins don’t hesitate, come in immediately.”</p><p>“If I take antibiotics, isn’t she also taking antibiotics?” Lance asked.</p><p>Doctor Gorma nodded solemnly.  “Yes, and because of that I also recommend immediate skin to skin and that you breastfeed her within an hour to build up her microbiome again, and continue to breastfeed exclusively for at least a month.  It may also help to add some more probiotic foods to your diet while you’re breastfeeding.  I can write a prescription for you if you’d rather take it in pill form.”</p><p>“I don’t think I’ll need a pill,” Lance sighed.  As soon as Haruka found out about his results he could look forward to a whole lot more natto in his life.  “I guess this means I won’t be able to use a birthing tub?”  He’d known there was a possibility it would already be in use when he got to the labor and delivery floor, but he’d still been hoping.</p><p>“I can’t recommend a water birth under these circumstances, but I see no reason why you can’t have the tub for hydrotherapy during the second stage of labor if it’s available.” Doctor Gorma scribbled something in his book.  “I’ll see that a note about it is added to your birth plan.  We can put your IV on a pole that’s mobile enough to allow you to get in the tub, but you’ll only have the IV in for less than an hour every four hours in any case, so that may be a nonissue.”</p><p>As he left the appointment with his mother chattering excitedly about seeing Caro on the monitor, Lance felt a lot better about things.  Even though he just knew he would be waking up to stinky beans for breakfast for the foreseeable future.  At least he didn’t have to do a contraction stress test.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Shiro decided to ride with Kai to pick up Kuro from his class after work instead of asking Kai to go back for him after dropping him home.  Kuro had made some friends in his classes, and he would often hang out with them in the espresso café next door to the school while waiting for his pickup, but lately he’d been agitating to take the subway and Shiro would as soon table that discussion for at least a little while longer.  Also, conversing with his little brother would be a welcome distraction from the knowledge that Lance was out there in the city right now riding in a car being driven by his mother.  He'd made an appointment to have the car seat base and an extensive security system installed in the car.  The fact that he’d otherwise personally vetted that car and knew Vibiana to be a responsible person did little to settle his nerves, but perhaps being around Kuro’s idiosyncratic view of the world would help lift his mood.</p><p>Kai turned onto the one way street and rolled slowly past the espresso café.  Through the glass front windows, Shiro could see Kuro suddenly stand up from his table and toss back a demitasse so fast it surely must have burned his tongue.  He waved goodbye to his table-mates and strolled out of the shop, walking down the sidewalk as Kai allowed the Rolls to drift over to the curb on the corner.  Kuro made for the door right next to Shiro’s seat, so Shiro opened the door and then slid over into the seat that he thought of as Lance’s even when Lance wasn’t actually in the car.</p><p>“Thank you for waiting at the end of the block, Shinobu-san,” Kuro said as he slipped into the vehicle and buckled his seat-belt.  “Hi, Ani-san.”</p><p>“It’s no trouble, Kuro-san.”  Kai smoothly pulled away from the curb and accelerated into traffic.</p><p>“Why would you want to walk to the end of the block if you don’t need to?” Shiro asked.</p><p>Kuro gave him a look of infinite patience.  “Not everybody goes home in a Rolls-Royce, Ani-san.”</p><p>Ah.  Well, if it made Kuro feel better to assume that nobody noticed his ride just because Kai stopped a little farther on down the block, Shiro wouldn’t take that small comfort away from him.  “How were your classes today?”</p><p>“Very productive.”  Kuro grinned.  “I learned something interesting, too.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“There is a folk dancing club and some of their members are in one of my classes.”  Kuro looked out the window at passing traffic as he spoke.</p><p>“You like folk dancing.”  Shiro remembered that he’d been an active member of his Nihon buyō club at his Tokyo campus, even performing in public with them sometimes.  “Did you want to join this club?  If you need anything for it I can help you.”  Clubs usually had dues, and a performing club probably had practice meets and required costumes.</p><p>“Thank you, Ani-san.”  Kuro turned from the window fast enough to make his hair flip over his shoulder, smile brilliant.  “They have begun practicing for Obon.  We could both go!”</p><p>“Obon?”  It was in August, Shiro knew that, but, “here?”</p><p>“A Bon Odori Festival will be held in Bryant Park,” Kai said without turning around.  “Many people from the temple are participating as well.”</p><p>“I didn’t know.”  Obon was a holiday for honoring ancestral spirits by cleaning graves, leaving offerings in front of the household altars, and dancing Bon Odori.  Shiro had gone to the festival and bazaar in San Francisco the summer he’d dated Matt, and it had helped him enormously in feeling some closure not only for not being able to say a proper goodbye to his mother, but also to the grandmother he’d heard so much about but never gotten to meet.  He had observed the holiday in private since, but he had not sought out a festival since his father had died.  He knew that if he did, it would surely be Ryu's spirit he was welcoming home for absolution.</p><p>“I cannot go home to attend to Chichi’s grave or leave offerings there,” Kuro said, “because I will be here.”</p><p>“Your mother will see to it that all of that is taken care of.”  Shiro may still harbor less than benevolent thoughts toward Tatsuo from time to time, but one thing he knew he could count on Tatsuo doing and that was observing remembrances for his father.</p><p>“I know that he will.”  Kuro sighed.  “But this is something that I can do while I’m here.  You can too.  If you want.”  Kuro’s eyes were wide and serious in his very young face.  “It might be good for us to say goodbye to Chichi together.”</p><p>The excuse was on the tip of his tongue that he would have a newborn baby in the house in August, and a mate who would need him.  But that baby would be the granddaughter of a man whose choices Shiro was still trying to come to grips with, and if there was anybody who’d understand a need for closure in regards to a parent, that person had to be Lance.  In addition to that, it would soon be Kuro’s turn for a birthday, and it seemed that his birthday wish was for Shiro to accompany him to the festival.</p><p>“Tell me more about this dance club.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The birthing ball class that Nurse Ware had referred Keith to was in a birthing center on Pico which had been converted from an old house and still pretty much looked like a house inside and out.  The class took place in the former living room, the bedrooms and bathrooms closed off by the addition of a door on the connecting hallway.  A woman in labor had been ushered past them through that door as the class was getting started.  The doula, a beta named Sirk who had her long dark hair held back by one of those headbands that had buttons on it for a face mask, turned on some Enya as background music before starting the class.</p><p>
  <em>♬  Ever close your eyes, ever stop and listen...  ♬</em>
</p><p>“Hello new students!” Sirk said.  Keith and Krolia were not the only first timers, the room was quite packed.  “You may have noticed the couches in the room.”  They were impossible to miss.  “Some of you may feel wobbly when you first sit down on the birthing ball, and if you do, that furniture is there to help you to steady yourself.  Feel free to lean on your birth partners too.  They might be your literal support system today.”</p><p>The class tittered and the tension broke as Sirk showed them how to sit on the ball with good posture, using a bike pump to help some of them deflate or inflate their birthing balls for a better sit.  Once everybody was sitting comfortably on a yoga ball, Sirk cycled them through some simple stretches.  She showed them how to stretch their hip flexors, which actually felt quite relaxing.  Then they moved on to labor positions using the birthing ball, which took the pressure off Keith’s back and was also relaxing.  Keith almost fell asleep before they reached the Q&amp;A portion of the class.</p><p>Luckily Krolia was still wide awake.  “Are there any positions we can use to encourage a sunny side up baby to turn around?”</p><p>“The polar bear pose can be very helpful for that.”  Sirk demonstrated the hips-up head-down pose leaning on her forearms.  “The heaviest part of your baby is the head, so gravity will encourage the baby to turn over to get more comfortable in there.  If you get tired, you can hug the ball to give your arms a rest.”</p><p>She showed them how to do it, and Keith followed along.  Never could he have imagined that his pup’s nickname would prove apt in this particular way.  He hoped these exercises worked for him.  Otherwise he might be meeting Sunny over the top of a sterile curtain instead of skin to skin like he’d wanted.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Here we are.”  Vibiana came back from the dumb waiter bearing a tea tray, which she set down in front of Lance in the front parlor.  “Red raspberry leaf tea to strengthen your pelvic floor so you don’t tear.  Don’t worry, I didn’t overbrew.”  She poured him a cup and started to pass it over, then paused, staring at his chest.  “Oh mijo.  I think you need to start wearing the breast pads now.”</p><p>“What?”  Lance looked down at his chest and saw two damp spots leaking through his shirt.  “Mierda.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“Ready?”  Hunk had the jar of vitamin E oil in his hand as he stood at the end of the bed in a rather familiar pose reminiscent of the moment which had started this whole ball rolling.</p><p>Keith leaned up on his elbows.  “Ready, Papa Bear.”</p><p>Hunk laughed as he applied some of the oil to his fingers and stepped up to the plate, as it were.  Perineal massage was supposed to help prevent tearing, but Keith was finding it had some significant side benefits.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>A baby’s first birthday was a major milestone, to be celebrated with panache and relief.  Lance had pictures of Socrates’s first birthday on his phone, in which he was wearing a lot of his birthday cake on his sweet little face.  Midori was wearing her birthday cake on her back.  It was two mochi cakes weighing about four pounds together, and Haruka had slipped them into a baby-sized backpack and strapped it to her little back, and then sat back to see if she would try to walk with it on.  The other members of the household had been invited into the Shinobus’ living room in the garden floor apartment to witness this event.  Midori did try to stand up, and then fell down on her little bottom, grizzling out her annoyance at the heavy object creating such an impediment to her cruising.</p><p>This little tumble was regarded as a good omen for Midori’s future, and her parents took the backpack off before proceeding to the next order of business, which was to lay out a bunch of symbolic items on the floor and see if Midori would crawl over and pick one up.  Laid out on the rug were a clicky pen, a calculator, a dollar bill, a measuring ruler, a set of chopsticks, a hacky sack, a pocket dictionary and a pair of safety scissors.  Whichever one she picked up was meant to augur her future career, though Kai admitted it was more of a fun game to play with the baby than a serious attempt to choose her career path.  Nevertheless, six adults sat around watching with held breath to see if a baby would try to play with a household object.  With a gurgle of glee, Midori crawled over to the grouped items.  Squealing in delight, she picked up the hacky sack and dropped it down on top of the dictionary.</p><p>“She’s going to be a referee?” Kai wondered aloud as they all watched his child proceed to beat the tar out of the dictionary with the hacky sack.  “A referee!”  He declared it joyfully.</p><p><strong>“A referee!”</strong>  The others took up the cheer with toasts and congratulations to the happy parents whose baby was about to become a toddler.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The sheer number of Alvárez family members coming to New York for Rachel’s wedding, combined with the fact that two of Shiro’s guest rooms were already occupied, prompted him to book rooms at a four star hotel just a short walk from the wedding venue.  Veronica and Dorma, who were due in first, could stay in Shiro’s remaining guest room, and their son Socrates could use the nursery, since Carolína was going to be sleeping in the master bedroom for probably at least the first month after she was born. Luis’s family and Marco, who were arriving the day after, would stay at the hotel.  This did not in any way mean that they would not be spending much time in Shiro’s house, as he discovered when he came home from work anticipating a long weekend of Lance nesting, which he’d been doing more and more often lately.</p><p>The basement had been cased for all of the very softest sheets and blankets to dress their bed.  Lance had also taken small bits of clothing out of Kuro’s closet and stolen the pillow right out from under his mother’s head to feather his cozy nest.  Who knows where he’d strike next, but if he tried to break into the garden apartment Shiro needed to be ready because Lance was the only omega Haruka had spent much time around before Kuro came to stay, and she might not understand how the nesting drive could cause him to behave.  He hustled through the garden floor door and paused in the foyer when he heard drums and trumpets.</p><p>
  <em>♬  ¡Suavemente!  ¡Bésame!  ♬</em>
</p><p>Shiro followed the music down the hall, through the kitchen and out to the garden, where he found his in-laws having a fiesta.  Lance’s portable bluetooth speaker sat on the patio table pouring out euphony.  Marco spotted him first and clapped him on the shoulder.</p><p>“Shiro!  Come toast to new lives!”</p><p>
  <strong>“¡Vida nueva!”</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>“¡Nueva vida!”</strong>
</p><p>A drink was put in Shiro’s hand.  He toasted obligingly and tasted rum and Coke.  Vibiana dodged her dancing children to reach his side with a smile.</p><p>“I can get you something non-alcoholic if you want.  I made malta con leche condensada for Lance and the children.”</p><p>Shiro smiled back at her, grateful for her presence.  “I’ll finish this and then take you up on that.”</p><p>Kai came in behind Shiro and was also promptly accosted with an alcoholic beverage.  Across the garden, Haruka and Dorma were in deep conversation while their babies babbled at each other from their arms.  Atlas was probably upstairs getting his naps in while the nursery was empty and the cruising babies were distracted.  Lately Midori had taken a fascination with the cat’s fluffy tail, and Socrates was also showing signs of curiosity as well a greater ability to physically give chase, being a couple of months ahead of Midori developmentally.  Shiro sincerely hoped their infant curiosity wouldn’t traumatize his cat.  Veronica and Lisa were taking turns twirling with Rachel and the two older kids, while Luis and Marco mock-argued about whether it was appropriate for Rachel and Daniel to perform the rumba at the reception.</p><p>“One of you needs to show me this rumba,” Kuro cut in.  He was standing next to Lance, who was helping himself to a tray of croquetas which had been placed on the patio table next to the speaker.  “It’s hard for me to picture why it’s so scandalous when all you say is the name.”</p><p>“It goes like this,” Lance said, and then he tried to roll his hips, but it came out as more of a shoulder-rolling waddle.  “You gotta let your milkshake bring all the boys to the yard.”</p><p>Shiro stepped forward and took the half-eaten croqueta out of his hand, polishing it off in one bite before helping himself to a sweet malty kiss.</p><p>Lance pouted up at him.  “You stole my croqueta.”</p><p>“I’ll get you another one.”  He reached past Lance to the croqueta tray sitting right there by his hip and picked up another one to hand over.  “See?”</p><p>Lance hummed happily as he noshed on the croqueta and tried to roll his hips again, prompting another theft and another kiss.  And so it went as the celebration continued into the evening.</p><p>
  <em>♬  ¡Suave!  ♬</em>
</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters bricks and mortar location was almost ready to open part-time.  The apprentices had been living there and training with Alana and Krolia for over a month on their recipes for biscuits, muffins, rolls and quick breads.  They were a long way out from being able to make their more complex recipes well enough to put their brand on it, but the moms had decided they were ready to open for breakfast sales and continue their training in the afternoons.  Hunk had just been over to the place to train them on how to use the point of sale terminal and was back home carrying a box of banana muffins the omegas had made to say thanks.  He heard the music when he entered the house.  Akane had given them a music box which played Akatonbo.</p><p>He followed the trailing notes into the nursery.  Keith sat cross-legged on the shaggy area rug folding tiny little clothes against his chest, which had recently begun to show the budding signs of colostrum production.  The birthing ball was rolled against the wall behind him, indicating he must have been doing his exercises in here before taking a tiny clothes break.  He was less than a week away from his due date.  Not that the due date was a given.</p><p>“Hey.”  Hunk set the muffins down on the butlers desk and sat down next to him, taking in his scent as he did.  His fragrance had intensified over the past few days, rich and dark.  “Need any help?”</p><p>Keith looked up at him with luminous eyes as he handed him a tiny little onesie.  “They’re so small.”</p><p>Hunk held the little garment up to fold it.  The shoulders were smaller across than his double hand-span.  “I see what you mean.  His arrival feels so large, but when he gets here he’s going to be this tiny little person.”  He looked down again at Keith, who was holding a small pair of socks in his fingers, stroking the fabric with his thumbs.  “He’s small, but he’s part you so he’s strong.”  Keith’s head raised again to meet his eyes.  “And you’re the strongest person I know, but I’m not going to leave you to do this alone.”</p><p>Keith’s voice was soft.  “Even if I wind up on an operating table?”</p><p>“Even if I have to knock over an orderly to be there with you, I will.”</p><p>Keith smiled then, and leaned his head against Hunk’s shoulder.  “Please don’t go to jail on our child’s birthday.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Daniel and Rachel had chosen to have a joint bachelor party at a sensible hour of the early evening but on a very nonsensical Tuesday.  Rachel’s siblings and their spouses had been rounded up along with the wedding party and a passel of Daniel’s cousins who’d already made it into town, and they were off to sing karaoke in a popular dive bar in Chinatown.  Vibiana had stayed behind to help Haruka and Lance take care of the children.  That left Shiro going with the bachelor and bachelorette, because his little brother was in the wedding party and somebody had to be the chaperone.</p><p>The limo was not big enough to carry the entire group coming with the bride, so they’d taken the subway and Kuro had been excited enough to make it almost worth Shiro’s nerves about the entire matter.  He still wasn’t happy about leaving Lance at the house.  It was his due date: Shakku, the red mouth day.  Haruka had cited statistics that only four percent of babies were born on their due dates, Vibiana had promised that she would keep a close watch over him, and Lance had not experienced so much as a Braxton Hicks contraction all day.  So, reluctantly, Shiro had gone, but he had designated himself the group’s sober person even though nobody was driving.  He also had his cell phone fully charged in his jacket pocket, turned on with just the screen locked.</p><p>“Hey, isn’t that Lance?”</p><p>Shiro turned in alarm.  Lance’s siblings were no longer following him, all of them crowded around a framed poster on the wall of the subway station where they’d disembarked.  Heavens to Murgatroyd, it was Lance in all of his naked glory.  Bobby Yadle had chosen a shot of him looking over his far shoulder with one hand curled around his belly, the pose pensive in its tension.  Only a portion of his jaw was visible above the curve of shoulder and neck, but Lance had a rather distinctive jawline, so it made sense that his siblings had recognized him anyway.</p><p><span class="u">Seventy-four percent of male omegas don’t take a pregnancy test until they’ve missed a heat,</span> read the poster’s blocky text in a graphic cascade in the negative space around Lance’s body.  <span class="u">That means seventy-four percent of male omegas don’t receive any prenatal care during their entire first trimester.  In a population twenty-six percent more likely to develop complications of pregnancy than any other dynamic, that’s a dangerous statistic.  If you think you might be pregnant, get tested right away!  Don’t wait for a missed heat!</span></p><p>It was as tastefully done as a naked picture of Lance in the subway could be.  Lance’s siblings stared at Shiro.  Shiro stared back.  “It was for a good cause,” he said.  They let it go at that, but not before drawing a bikini top over Lance’s nipples with a ballpoint pen.</p><p>Once they got to the bar, they met up with the groom’s party and claimed a couple of adjacent booths.  The drinks began to flow and the mood began to loosen, except for Shiro’s because he was trying to stick to soft drinks and people kept trying to hand him beers.  One of the Toronto cousins was buying rounds for everybody, and the bartender would interpret ‘everybody’ as the entire table and send out the round after counting heads.  Other members of the party happily tried to take one for the team every time this happened.  It wasn't long before the group was ridiculously rowdy and Shiro was just about done.</p><p>♬  “Oh, oh, I’m sincerely yours, the one my heart beats for, the one I adore!”  ♬</p><p>Rachel was up on stage with her sister and sisters-in-law as backup singers.  This was one thing about being the only sober person at a karaoke party that was causing Shiro some angst, separate from the issue of being away from his mate so close to birth and also having to keep one eye on his drink and the other on his little brother at all times.  It was harder for him to turn off his well-trained inner music critic when he wasn’t drunk.  The ladies all had nice singing voices, but Rachel had a tendency to over-embellish her phrasing.  Then Daniel jumped on stage to perform the rap bridge along with some questionable dance moves.</p><p>♬  “My precious love, I just can’t believe the letters I send you don’t receive.”  ♬</p><p>Shiro did not recall the original artists using the whistle register on that song, nor did he see anything in the lyrics that warranted a high kick for emphasis.  As the couple on stage continued to turn the song’s call and response outro into Velveeta, Shiro took his cell phone out of his pocket and unlocked it to check his messages.  Nothing.  He sent Lance a message: <em>Everything ok?</em>  He waited an eternity of two seconds before he got the reply: <em>Everyting fine :) stop worryin have fun.</em></p><p>It would be a cold night in Hades before Shiro stopped worrying about Lance.  He kept that conversation tagged for status change alerts and settled in for an evening of guarding both his and Kuro’s drinks while the others lost more of their musical proficiency with every drink.  Shiro couldn’t wait to get home.</p><p>♬  “Forever sincerely yours!”  ♬</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Kosmo nosed up to Keith whining.  “Not you too?  I’m not due for another few days at least.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”  Hunk was dressed for the morning but delaying going into work.</p><p>Keith supposed Hunk wasn’t wrong to be concerned, but he was damn sure.  He’d been to his mother’s debut at the Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters tent, and he wouldn’t want to miss her debut at the new place either.  He had a mild but persistent twinge in his lower back, but otherwise he felt perfectly okay.  “I’m going to be with my mom and your mom, and Gyrgan’s probably going to be there too.  I’ll be fine.”</p><p>It was Krolia showing up with Gyrgan in his safe and comfortable Lexus RX 350 that finally convinced Hunk to relax, though he made sure Keith had all of his office numbers on speed dial plus Nadia’s.  If it had been Akane in her little 2x2 Keith was pretty sure Hunk would have taken the day off to personally escort Keith to the place, but he chilled down and reluctantly went to work after helping Keith get into Gyrgan’s vehicle.  Keith sat buckled into the second row enjoying the heated seat feature against his back.  This morning outing should be a nice way to spend some time with his Mom and keep his mind off the impending trip to the hospital.  He would never have thought he’d welcome the prospect of a tear over the possibility of having to be wheeled into an operating theater.  He focused on his conversation with his mother in the front seat, refusing to dwell on uncertainty and let it ruin his morning.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance woke blearily to his cell phone ringing on the night stand.  Shiro had come home and plastered himself to Lance’s back, which had actually felt really nice mmm body heat, but then he’d gone to work and Lance had passed out again and slept until... was it really almost ten in the morning?  Mamá must have let him sleep in.  He tipped up the cell phone’s screen and saw that it was Rachel calling.  He answered.  “‘Sup?”</p><p><em>“Lance, por suerte you picked up the phone!”</em>  She sounded a bit creaky and a lot harried.  <em>“Do you remember how you said it would be okay if the photographer wanted to shoot the photos of me posing with Mamá in my wedding gown at your house?”</em></p><p>Lance rolled over and noticed that Shiro had pinned the anzan omamori to the headboard on his side of the bed sometime during the night.  “Yeah?”</p><p>
  <em>“Well he’s agreed to shoot that pose, but he can only do it today!”</em>
</p><p>Covers rustled as Lance started trying to lever himself out of bed, an action which had recently become both an art and a science.  “Aren’t you hungover?”</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, but that doesn’t matter!  If I don’t get this shot then we won’t have any pictures of my real wedding gown in the pre-wedding photos!”</em>
</p><p>It was on the tip of Lance’s tongue to remind her that post-wedding photos were also a thing, but then he remembered that he’d be arguing with a stressed out, hungover bride.  “Okay, come on over, we’re all here.”</p><p>Maybe he could even work some magic on her face to remove evidence of her previous night’s merrymaking.  He waddled to the closet to put on a dressing gown and then started putting together a makeup kit.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters’ soft opening was proving a grand success.  Akane had shown up wearing her costume as Red Puma Girl from the superhero kids’ show she was currently doing the car stunts for, and she gamely performed the dramatic poses for the neighborhood children waiting in line with their parents for sweet breads, even though she didn’t really have anything to do with the fight choreography on that show.  Keith hoped she had permission from the show’s producers to wear that costume for a business opening, though it was entirely possible that Akane didn’t care if she did or not.  He sat contentedly behind the counter eating a milk bread roll and watching the moms and their apprentices fill order after order.  The counter-height stools had slat backs and footrests, but his lower back was still protesting.  He was going to quietly put in a suggestion to his mother later that seat cushions should be added to these chairs.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>A breakfast of black bean tea with rice and natto was waiting for Lance downstairs, and the only thing that made it worthwhile was watching his hungover big sister also being treated to the funky beans.  Haruka was unintimidated by Veronica’s complaining and Dorma, who had already been up to feed Socrates, wasn’t much more sympathetic.  “It is full of B vitamins that will make your liver recover faster,” was all Haruka had to say in response.  Meanwhile, the babies got to snack on banana slices.  Lucky babies.  By the time Rachel showed up looking like she’d done her hair in a wind tunnel, Lance was feeling a fresh surge of energy.  He’d like to attribute that to the second wind of the righteously motivated, but he was pretty sure it was all the beans he’d just consumed.</p><p>Mamá marched Rachel straight into the hall shower on the guest floor and had a cafecito waiting for her when she got out.  Lucky Rachel.  They trooped downstairs to the nursery and Lance sat her down at the built-in vanity in the attached bathroom.  The toiletries and supplies in there had long been replaced by baby trappings which had been used, on occasion, by Midori and would now also be used for Carolína.  Lance had packed the makeup supplies he’d thought he’d need before breakfast, and then gone back to add hair supplies to the kit while Rachel was in the shower.  He took the towel off Rachel’s hair and hefted it’s heavy weight in his hands; even heavier now because it was still damp.</p><p>“What do you think, up or down?” he asked.  He knew she planned to wear it up for the ceremony, but this posed shot was supposed to capture her in the act of having the gown altered, so down might suit that intention better.</p><p>“Half-up,” Rachel decided.  “I want it to look like I just came out of the shower in a romance movie where showers are magic.”</p><p>Lance combed a leave-in conditioner into her hair and pinned it up on the sides in loose rolls.  Air drying would actually work in her favor for her intended look, so he left his cordless hair dryer in the kit.  Since she wouldn’t need a full face of makeup to accomplish what she was after, he gave her a full face of CC cream instead and rolled some cooling gel around her eyes.  A little contouring to account for the puffiness which alcohol hath wrought, a little cream blush here and a little highlighter there, and it was still a real good thing that Rachel was genetically blessed.  He applied a light eyeliner to her waterline for a brightening effect, and curled her lashes before layering on a lengthening mascara to widen her eyes.  He was painting her lips with cream lipstick in an apricot shade when she gasped and almost made him give her the Joker’s smile.</p><p>“My shoes!”  Rachel’s big blue eyes welled with fresh panic.  “¡Ay de mi!  I left my shoes in the apartment!”</p><p>“Why would you have those shoes on at a dress fitting?” Vibiana asked perfectly reasonably.</p><p>“She’s right,” Lance agreed quickly to head off bridepocalypse, “and a pretty toenail polish would really pop in the picture, too.  Let’s have a look at your toes.”</p><p>Rachel kicked off the bedroom slippers she’d borrowed from Mamá.</p><p>“¡Ay, por Dios!” Vibiana exclaimed, hands flying to her head.  “Have you been forgetting your shoes to go outside too?”</p><p>Rachel had Alvárez feet, so they were huge, but that wasn’t the real problem.  The real problem?  Rachel apparently didn’t know that foot care was more than just letting some soap land on them in the shower.</p><p>“Why didn’t you get a pedicure while you were getting that manicure?” Lance demanded, waving his makeup wand at Rachel’s perfectly done French tip fingernails.</p><p>“I only have so many hours in the day!” Rachel bitched right back.  She was usually the mellower sister, but she was fully capable of exhibiting the Fernández temper when the right button was pushed.  Being unable to meet an obligation she’d promised to meet was one of her buttons, and life was currently smashing it pretty good.</p><p>Lance thought fast.  How to salvage this?  The photographer was due to arrive in less than two hours and his beautiful sister was like an angelic choir from the ankles up and shrieking violins from the ankles down.  Toenail polish alone was not going to fix this, she needed a foot make-over, and fast.  Lance was going to need some help.  Antor had a lunch break right about now, didn’t he?  Maybe he’d come over if Lance bribed him with Mamá’s cooking.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The morning’s business was an unqualified success.  Alana and Krolia personally thanked everyone, apprentice and customer alike, before closing up the storefront and helping the apprentices with the cleanup.  They reconciled the receipts, balanced the cash drawer and prepared their first daily report, and then Alana left to make the bank deposit.  The apprentices were being given the rest of the day off, as Krolia and Alana had agreed that the rush of their first day of customer facing might make it difficult for them to concentrate on training afterward.  Gyrgan wanted to take Krolia out for a late lunch to celebrate, and they’d invited Keith and Akane along with them.  Tommy was still at 4-H and would be for the rest of the day.</p><p>Keith’s backache had grown steadily worse while sitting on that chair.  As much as he wanted to go home and curl up in bed with Kosmo, he also wanted to enjoy his mother’s company a little while longer.  She was flush with excitement from the morning’s events, being around her was like getting a contact high.  Even Akane’s habitual vinegar was lacking its usual salt.  Keith got into the second row of Gyrgan’s crossover and started warming up the cushioned seat, determined to get through lunch.  There would be plenty of time for napping with the dog later.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Antor had made Lance send him a picture of the feet before he’d believe they were really that bad.  <em>I didnt kno tonails could get that long</em> he responded, followed by, <em>be ther in 10</em>.  Mamá had done her part putting together a quick picadillo to serve over rice or in bread like a sloppy joe.  Everybody else in the house descended on it like wolves.  Even Rachel had some in a soup mug, requiring her to brush her teeth and Lance to reapply her lipstick.  Antor thanked Vibiana most sincerely for the lunch, and then they went upstairs to scrub Rachel’s feet until the dry skin flakes floated to the bottom of the foot tub like snow in a snow-globe.</p><p>They emptied the gross tub and plopped Rachel’s feet in milk while Antor went back downstairs for seconds (the stomach was strong with that one) and when he came back they took a pumice stone to those feet, one foot per cosmetician.  They attacked the nails next, trimming, filing and rubbing the tops with lemon juice, before giving Rachel’s feet another exfoliation with sugar.  Finally they moisturized and pushed the cuticles back, and then re-moisturized each entire foot before applying a layer of coral polish on her toenails.  Rachel might never be a foot model, but her feet wouldn’t horrify the photographer.  Probably.</p><p>“It’s been an honor and a pleasure to serve with you,” Lance said as he walked Antor back to the front door.  It would have been nice to hang out longer but Antor had another shift waiting for him.</p><p>“You too, kid.”  They shook hands on the front stoop.  “Say, when’s mini-Lance making his debut?”</p><p>“It’s a girl,” Lance said, hand on stomach.  “She’s due any day now, actually.”</p><p>“We’re having a girl too,” Antor said, smiling wistfully.</p><p>“Congratulations,” Lance said.</p><p>“Thanks.”  Antor sighed.  “I just hope Omnia knows I want to be there on the day, you know?  I’m not gonna faint on her.”</p><p>“If you didn’t faint at what you just had to do to my sister’s feet, then I’m sure you’ve got the stones to witness childbirth.”  Lance put a hand on his shoulder.  “Maybe you should tell her, though?”</p><p>“I keep having a problem with that, don’t I?” Antor admitted contritely, then frowned.  “Should you be kneeling and stuff right now?”</p><p>“I have it on good authority that it’s good for the squatting muscles.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Gyrgan treated them to lunch at an outdoor bistro that served haute cuisine made from super-fresh ingredients during limited hours.  He dropped Keith and Krolia off in front of the bistro and drove off to where Akane was already circling for available parking spots like a bird of prey.  Keith was super pregnant and Akane was still dressed like a superhero, so he snagged a picnic table in the shade while his mother went inside to put their orders in for them.  They received a carafe of rooibos tea to share which did soothe the crampy feeling in Keith’s back, at least temporarily.  He ordered the avocado toast with a scrambled egg that had probably been laid just that morning.  It tasted delicious and he would have wolfed it down, except the crampy feeling returned and he wound up stopping before he’d finished half of it.</p><p>“What’s the matter, sweetie, is it not good?”  Krolia looked across the table in concern, and Keith felt bad for bringing the room down.  Or rather, the patio.  “Here, try some of my beet salad.  I have a few bites left.”</p><p>“No, that’s not it,” Keith rushed to assure her.  She had been enjoying the hell out of that beet salad, he didn’t want to take it away from her.  “My food tastes great, it’s just that I’ve got a backache.”</p><p>Much to his consternation, her look of concern did not abate.  “You do?  For how long?”</p><p>“Um.”  Was that really important?  “Since this morning, but it wasn’t so bad when we left.”</p><p>“So it’s gotten worse since then.”  Krolia was really staring hard at him now and it was making him sweat.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Oh my god, Keith.”  Krolia’s eyes were practically bugging out now.  “You’re in back labor!”</p><p>“What?  No I’m not.”  Labor was supposed to be contractions that made people clutch their stomachs in agony, not slowly encroaching backaches.  Then something wet trickled down the pants leg of Keith’s overalls.  A wet trickle of enlightenment.  “Okay, either I’m leaking amniotic fluid or I might have just peed at the table.”</p><p>“You’re in labor!”  Krolia leaped up from the table and rushed to Keith’s side.  “We’ve got to get you to the hospital.  My baby is in labor!”</p><p>“I’ll pay the bill and get the car.”  Gyrgan quickly settled the bill on his phone, then jumped up and ran off to get his vehicle out of parking purgatory.</p><p>“I need Hunk,” Keith said as his mother tried to bodily lift him up off of his bench, “and my hospital bag is still in the house!”</p><p>“I’ll take care of all that,” Akane said, and off she swooped, snatching up his leftover piece of avocado toast and stuffing it in her mouth as she ran.</p><p>Gyrgan roared up to the curb and Krolia helped Keith up into the second row, then climbed in after him.  She buckled him in, and he immediately hit the seat warmer button.  Gyrgan was on his cell phone again as he pulled away from the curb.</p><p>“...yes that’s right, thank you officer.  Very much appreciated.”  He ended the call and passed the phone behind him to Krolia.  “Highway patrol suggests we call the hospital on the way.  There’s an accident on Venice Boulevard, he said it’s slowing down traffic for miles, but if we cross at La Cienega they might be able to let us through.”</p><p>Gyrgan was a retired traffic court judge, and it seemed he’d just called in a marker.</p><p>“Thank you, Gyrgan,” Krolia said as she dialed the hospital.</p><p>Gyrgan’s eyes were warm in the rear view mirror.  “You are most welcome any time.”</p><p>Keith felt kind of like a voyeur, which wasn’t fun when it was his mom.  Then he felt his first real intense contraction in his fucking back and it was hard to think about anything else but the pain.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The photographer showed up, and he was a tall blond beta named Roy Fokker who Lance happened to know was one of Shiro’s ex-flings, on account of having come across the vacation pictures during one of his forays into the basement.  Now, Lance had been called a shameless flirt before, and he owned that description, but he ain’t got nothing on this guy.  Roy glibly hit on every person over the age of eighteen he encountered after hitting the front door, even the one wearing a wedding gown and the one who was heavy with child.  They probably could have left Rachel’s feet in full goblin effect and he still would have asked her if she got lost on the way to heaven.  He was lucky Veronica was still too hung-over to realize that when he asked how she and Dorma were doing, it was not just a social nicety.  Vibiana shooed the flirty photographer up to the nursery before he could tempt fate any further, but not before he told her that he wished he’d worn his catnip cologne that day.</p><p>They were going to pose for the photographs inside the walk-in closet, which was still stuffed full of Lance’s clothes, but as long as the clothes remained on the racks it wouldn’t be obvious to a casual observer that it was Lance’s closet and not Rachel’s.  Lance and Dorma watched them set up the shot from a discreet distance; Dorma out of professional curiosity and Lance because they were in his space.  Roy threw the French doors wide open and propped up a light reflector before posing Rachel and Vibiana like a domestic scene in an Impressionist painting.  He set up a small softbox with a speedlight flash and then he started snapping.</p><p>“That’s an efficient setup for the amount of space and ambient light he has to work with,” Dorma murmured.</p><p>Lance would have had a witty reply at the ready, but all of the sudden the beans he’d eaten at breakfast started to catch up to him and he had to excuse himself.  He rushed across the hall to the master bedroom and into the toilet alcove, sat down and got to business.  Both numbers.  He hadn’t verified the existence of his penis by sight for a while, so it was just more efficient this way.  The way things were coming out, he’d have sworn he’d drunk coffee at breakfast, but he knew for a fact that he hadn’t.  Must have been the beans.  Thank goodness for washlets.</p><p>Finally, Lance was ready to put himself back to rights.  He reached down intending to haul his leggings and underwear back up in one go, but he got a look inside said underwear and what he saw there made him let out a short scream.  The crotch panel had mucus stringed with pinkish blood in it.  Before he could think about stumbling for the intercom, he heard the squeaky board outside the bedroom and then Dorma was rushing over to him.</p><p>“Sorry for barging in, I heard you yell.”  She looked down at his underwear.  “Lancito, it’s your bloody show!”</p><p>“Are you sure it’s not a blood clot and I’m dying?”</p><p>“No, it’s a bloody show, I had the same thing with Socrates, it means you’re dilating, not dying.”  She crossed to the opposite alcove and began rummaging under the sink.  “Do you have pads?”</p><p>“They’re all in the hospital bag, it’s right next to the door,” Lance said, kicking off his underwear and leggings because he was going to need fresh ones.  He didn't want to go to the hospital in dirty undies if he still had a choice in the matter.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Krolia had one hand fisted at the small of Keith’s back and the other clenched around the cell phone as she argued with the admitting nurse or whoever she was talking to at the hospital.</p><p>“Yes it’s his first baby... yes, we’re sure it’s not pee!  Yes I know people mistake back pain for back labor and no, he is not able to speak through his contractions!  He was probably in early labor for hours already and... listen to me!”</p><p>Krolia’s knuckle massage did help somewhat with the spasms wracking Keith's back at regular, horrible intervals.  Also somewhat helpful: traffic cops who were ready and waiting to let them through at the snarled up intersection Gyrgan had warned them about.  After a slow-moving eternity of being waved past honking commuters, they were finally moving north again, the trip through afternoon traffic passing like a feverish hallucination.  Keith could have sworn he saw Lance roll by his window naked on the side of a bus.</p><p>“Well they’re a lot closer together than five minutes apart, I can tell you that!”  Krolia took her hand out from the small of Keith’s back and he groaned.  “I’m sorry baby, I need your watch.”  She reached over him to pick up his wrist, on which he was wearing his chronograph.  “Alright, we’re timing now.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Hunk found excuses to be near the front desk throughout the day.  It wasn’t like he needed to be tied to his desk, he’d been making an effort to stay on top of his paperwork in anticipation of taking paternity leave.  He had his cell phone on him, but if an emergency did happen, most likely Keith would not be in a position to be the one calling, and the people with him were more likely to dial the main line and get routed through the switchboard.  So he was schmoozing customers and trying not to irritate Nadia with his hovering, as she was going to be covering a lot of his duties when he took time off.  That was why he was right there when Bii-Boh-Bi hustled into the lobby looking a little bit starstruck.</p><p>“Do we need to check in a movie star under an alias?” Hunk asked him.  They did get famous guests quite regularly.</p><p>“It’s Red Puma Girl,” Bii-Boh-Bi said.  “She wouldn’t give me her car keys, though.  She said she has to talk to you right away, it’s a matter of the utmost urgency.”</p><p>“Red Puma Girl?”  Hunk’s brain blanked out for several seconds before he realized who it had to be.  “Akane.”  He ran past Bii-Boh-Bi for the door.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Haruka had called the doctor’s office for Lance while he was getting ready.  She brought the phone upstairs and she, Lance and Dorma listened to it on speaker in the master bedroom while Veronica watched the babies downstairs.  Atlas had joined them, curious about what all the people were doing in one of his favorite napping spots, and hoping one of them would sit down and give him a lap to sit on.  Rachel and Mamá were still in the photo session.  Lance hadn’t seen a reason to interrupt them until he knew for sure whether he needed to go to the hospital yet.</p><p><em>“Bloody show means you could be anywhere from a few hours to a few days from active labor.”</em>  Dorma nodded at the doctor’s words.  She’d mentioned that her bloody show had appeared twelve hours before her contractions started.  <em>“You don’t actually need to come in until regular contractions begin. Normally for a first time mother I’d say use the 3-1-1 rule, but since we need to get you on an IV drip, I’m going to recommend 6-1-1 for you, unless your water breaks in which case come right on in immediately.”</em></p><p>He meant contractions lasting one minute, coming six minutes apart, for at least an hour’s duration.</p><p>“I will time for you,” Haruka said, tapping her smart watch.  “You let me know when I need to start.”</p><p>Lance was glad he had a posse of smart chicas around to help him watch out for his little chiquita.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Akane took the corner at South Robertson in her red Z-car like the character she was dressed as, while Hunk held the oh shit handle in a grip strong enough leave the imprint of his fingers in the vinyl.  People outside on the street were taking pictures.  They probably thought it was a promotional stunt.</p><p>“Keith’s going to want his hospital bag and birthing ball,” Hunk found the breath to say when he realized they were headed in the direction of the hospital instead of the house.</p><p>“Already got it,” Akane said.  “Your place was on the way so I stopped there first.”</p><p>Hunk glanced into the tiny backseat.  Oh yeah.  There they were.  Akane had wedged the birthing ball down in the space between the backseat and the back of her bucket seat so that it wouldn’t bounce around from her driving.</p><p>“Hold on tight, Otou-san,” Akane said, gunning the motor as the light up ahead turned yellow.</p><p>Hunk held on.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Everybody went down to the kitchen to wait for the photo session to end.  They made a giant fruit salad and got to snacking and chatting.  Kuro came home from classes and joined them there while Kai headed back out to bring Shiro home from work.  The conversation eventually wound around to belly dancing.  They’d been talking about how the only planned dance at Rachel’s wedding reception was the lion dance.  Daniel had assured them there would be plenty of drunken revelry to be had, but they were having trouble imagining how that was going to take place without dancing.  Then Veronica joked that Lance could have led them into the banquet with some hip moves but she wasn’t sure if he could still remember where his hips were.</p><p>“I can so still belly dance!”  Lance was miffed.  “Watch this!”  He loosened his knees to bust out some figure eights and felt a tightening of his entire abdomen from top to bottom that nearly punched the breath out of him.  “Whoo!  I think that was a contraction!”</p><p>Veronica instantly went from big sister teasing to big sisterly concern.  “Is it go time, should we head for the hospital?”</p><p>“Not yet,” Dorma said with a smile, while Haruka checked her watch.  “Lance is still talking with no trouble, it’s not go time until he’s not quite so verbal.”</p><p>“Dulzura, Lance could remain verbal while being carried away by a hurricane,” Veronica said, prompting Lance to go, “Hey!” just as his mother and sister came back downstairs with the photographer in tow.  Rachel was still in her gown, holding it up with Vibiana’s help to reveal that she had put the bedroom slippers back on.  Veronica hummed the Bridal Chorus while Kuro went over to help carry Rachel’s train and tell her how pretty she looked.</p><p>“What goes on in here?” Vibiana asked, sensing sibling squabbles the way a rain frog senses an oncoming shower.</p><p>“We are timing Lance’s labor,” Haruka said matter-of-factually, resulting in a flurry of excited chatter and belly-rubbing from Mamá and a wistful sigh from Rachel.</p><p>“I was hoping to get a picture of me and Lance together while I’m still dressed like this,” she said, holding out her voluminous skirts.</p><p>“We can still get a picture,” Lance said, “I’m not that far into it yet.”</p><p>“Lance is not supposed to leave until he stops talking,” Kuro said.</p><p>“That means we have plenty of time!”  Rachel’s happy smile returned.</p><p>Roy wanted to snap a few shots of them outside in the back garden together.  It was a nice summer afternoon and the garden was alive in vibrant green, with bright swathes of pink from the blooms of shrub roses and bee balm.  Lance knew making the bride look good was the objective here, but he was still glad he’d already changed his clothes.  Then Roy told him he looked hotter than a soup dumpling as he lined up his first shot, and Veronica cracked a joke about how Rachel should stand a little farther away from Lance in case his hot soup broke out of the wrapper.  Being flirted with was good for the ol’ ego and it was nice to know that he could always count on Veronica to bring that ego back down to earth, but there was a part of Lance who was going to honestly miss most strangers automatically categorizing him as a ‘no mischief’ zone due to the protruding belly.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith had already been triaged by the time Hunk burst out of the elevator on the third floor looking for the Labor and Delivery unit.  The nurse who led him back to the labor room he’d been assigned to told Hunk that he was six centimeters dilated and refusing an epidural.</p><p>“He wants an active birth,” Hunk told her, and if they didn’t have Keith’s birth plan he wanted to know the reason why.  Akane had gone to find a parking spot and then make the phone call rounds before heading for the waiting room, but Keith had arrived with Gyrgan and Krolia, who would have surely made certain that Doctor Page had been notified.</p><p>Gyrgan looked up as Hunk and the nurse entered the room.  “Your birthing team is on the way,” he said.  “Keith and Krolia are in the bathroom.”</p><p>Hunk set the hospital bag and birthing ball down, following where Gyrgan had pointed.  Thanks to the natural acoustics of tile and water, Hunk heard them before he saw them.  Keith had been assigned a room with a large hydrotherapy tub in the bathroom, and Krolia had helped him get into it.  Keith was presently hunkered down in there leaning on the tub ledge with his forearms and snarling at another nurse who had unwisely tried to coax him out of there while speaking to him in the second person.</p><p>“When you’re pushing another human out of your privates, then we’ll talk about getting us out of the fucking tub!”</p><p>Krolia rubbed Keith’s back, but Hunk could tell she was trying not to laugh, and he decided to interpret that as a positive omen.  He knelt down on Keith’s other side, moving slowly in case he was transitioning and didn’t want to be touched, but he leaned into Hunk’s touch with a rough purr.  Then Keith said, “Hurts,” which squeezed Hunk’s heart something awful.</p><p>“The baby is left occiput posterior and he’s having trouble engaging,” said the nurse who’d tried to get Keith out of the tub.  The admitting nurse had disappeared back to her post.  “In addition to that, the baby is quite large, and I’m sure I don’t have to go over the risks involved with a male omega mother’s smaller pelvis.  The chance of dystocia– ”</p><p>“I don’t want a C-section,” Keith interrupted.</p><p>Hunk’s heart squeezed again, this time out of dawning dread.</p><p>“We want to try to turn the baby,” Krolia said, looking between Hunk and the nurse standing over them in the bathroom doorway.  “His heart rate was within normal range in triage, and he was direct OP just a week ago.  He’s moved already from Keith doing exercises to make him turn, he just needs a little nudge and he could be left occiput transverse.”</p><p>“We brought the birthing ball,” Hunk said, and Keith smiled at him, though his eyes were showing the strain of labor pain.</p><p>The nurse grimaced in sympathetic concern.  “If you wait too long for an epidural, you might have to go under general anesthesia if you do wind up needing an emergency C-section.”</p><p>If that happened, Keith’s fear of not getting skin-to-skin after the birth would not only come true, he might not even remember the birth at all.</p><p>“How about we give repositioning an honest try first?”  Nurse Ware had arrived on the scene, and not a moment too soon.  “I can administer a sterile water injection for you, Keith.  It will sting at the injection site for a few moments, but it should buy you a couple of hours of relief for your back so you can focus on getting the little one to turn and engage.”</p><p>“I say yes.”  Keith had that do or die look on his face.  “Let’s do it.”</p><p>So Keith was finally coaxed out of the tub and into a cotton hospital gown with tie closures.  Nurse Ware checked his and Sunny’s heart rates again and then his lower back was swabbed down with rubbing alcohol.  Nurse Ware delivered four subcutaneous shots over the sacrum, leaving four little red welts in Keith’s sensitive skin.  Keith winced as the shots were administered, but as Ware had promised, his eyes were closing in relief within minutes afterward.</p><p>Then Ware suggested they try an upright method that might encourage Sunny to tuck his chin and drop into a more optimal position for delivery.  He had Hunk stand behind Keith and link his fingers under Keith’s belly.  On Keith’s next contraction, Hunk was to lift his belly up and in a couple of inches, while Keith maintained a straight-postured, knees-bent ready stance.  They were to hold this position until the contraction ended, and then relax forward to wait for the next one, and repeat for ten contractions.</p><p>Hunk held Keith and Sunny in his hands and prayed.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance breathed through another contraction while his mother rubbed his back and Haruka counted it off.  It felt like the worst charley horse ever in his stomach, and each round seemed a little bit more intense than the one before it.  Roy Fokker had been sent on his merry way with Rachel’s photographs to develop.  Rachel herself had gone upstairs to get out of her gown (and probably moon over it for a little while) and back into street clothes.</p><p>“You started off the hour with contractions seven minutes apart and now you are at five, with a mean of 62 seconds’ duration for the data set,” Haruka said.  “How are you feeling?”</p><p>Lance glared at Haruka while practicing his cleansing breaths.  He was in labor while she was having fun with math.  How did she think he was feeling?</p><p>“I think he’s ready to go,” said Kuro.</p><p>Lance finally found his voice.  “Shiro’s not here yet.”  He was supposed to pull up outside and Lance would get in and then they’d go to the hospital together, but the limo got stuck in a traffic jam on the 23rd Street interchange.</p><p>“He’s already moving in the correct direction,” Vibiana said, “he will catch up.  We need to get you admitted so you can get your IV.”  She was already up and moving, hoisting the hospital bag over her shoulder.</p><p>“Your mother is right,” Haruka said.  “I will call Kai and tell him to stay on the parkway and meet you there.”</p><p>Huffing, puffing and still protesting, Lance was ushered out to wait on the stoop with his big sister and his brother-in-law while his mother ran ahead to get the Camry out of the parking garage.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Slowly, traffic crawled northward on FDR drive.  Coming up ahead on the right was a nice view of the East River Esplanade.  Leftward loomed the tall, imposing structures of several hospital complexes.  Unfortunately, none of them were the hospital that Shiro needed.  He was meant to be about nine miles farther north, where Lance was already headed in hopefully better traffic conditions.  The thought of him giving birth in the back of a moving vehicle once more gripped Shiro’s imagination, so he tried to fix his eyes outward as a distraction.</p><p>Jaywalkers were taking full advantage of the stalled traffic.  Shiro envied their relative mobility.  Then one of them climbed into the backseat with him.</p><p>“I beg your pardon, Shiro, but I need a ride,” said Adam.  “Hello, Kai.”</p><p>“Greetings, Adam-san.”  Kai nodded in the rear-view mirror as if this was an everyday occurrence and not a relatively benign hijacking in progress.</p><p>Then Curtis let himself into the back of the limo.  “Hi Shiro.  Adam, you’re overreacting.”</p><p>“I’m overreacting to you tricking me into thinking I was going to talk you out of getting one of those surgically implanted knots on your dick, only to find out it was an OBGYN appointment for me?”  Adam crossed his arms obstinately.</p><p>Curtis was beside himself, in addition to being beside Adam in the back of Shiro’s vehicle.  “If you’re pregnant, don’t you want to know?”</p><p>“Yes, of course I’d want to know.”  Adam was exasperated.  “In the time frame that nature intended, which is the exact same day that I get to tell everyone the happy news.  Not having to go around with a secret for several months is one of the hidden blessings of being a male omega, and you want to deny me.  How can you be so easily persuaded by a picture of a naked pregnant waif in the subway?  Do you cry every time Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel” comes on the radio?”</p><p>Curtis’s lower lip trembled, just slightly.  “You know I do.”</p><p>Adam then looked a bit contrite.  “So do I, and that’s beside the point.  You boonswaggled me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”  Curtis bent his head in chagrin.  “I handled it badly.  It’s just that I really think you’re pregnant, and while I agree that our lifestyle is very healthy I also think we should be planning for all the risks.”</p><p>“Well, I think unnecessary medical intervention– ” Adam turned his head away from Curtis and remembered that Shiro was there.  “You know, you could have made a noise and reminded us you were listening.”</p><p>“Why would I have needed to be the one to do that?” Shiro asked.  Then traffic abruptly started picking up again.  “Kai, make all due speed.”</p><p>“Yes sir.”</p><p>“If you could just drop me off at the next subway station, that would be fine,” said Adam.</p><p>Curtis tried to take Adam’s hand in one of his; Adam smacked it.  “Adam– ”</p><p>“Oh, we’re not stopping,” Shiro said.  “Not unless traffic forces us to stop again for longer than it takes to sit through a red light.”  </p><p>But he really hoped it would not.  Even if he had to spend the rest of the drive listening to them work out their communication issues.  Boy, was he glad that his and Lance’s newlywed phase was behind them.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith rested on his birthing ball, counting his breaths as the contractions returned to galloping force, squeezing him from the sides this time at least instead of hammering his back.  Hunk’s big, warm hand against his spine was the only hand he wanted on him at this moment.  They’d done it.  They’d repositioned Sunny, and then Keith had done some oscillations on the ball to encourage him to descend even further.  Keith’s own balls had retreated into the inguinal canal in preparation for the pushing that was coming, and they were crowding his round ligament, causing sharp pain if he moved too suddenly.  He was exhausted and covered in sweat and the thought of standing made him feel like crying in frustration.</p><p>“Hunk, I don’t know if I can get up.”</p><p>Hunk leaned down beside him.  “Yes you can, baby.”  It was brave of him to say, since Keith had not five minutes prior cussed out a shift change nurse who tried to get him to move off the ball and up onto the bed.  “I know you can do it.  I’m going to be right here beside you the whole way, and I’ll help however I can.”</p><p>Krolia and Nurse Ware were waiting patiently near the adjustable bed.  Keith had electrodes attached to his belly that were sending data to the monitors Ware had begun keeping an eye on.  </p><p>The delivery room door opened and Doctor Page came in.  “Let’s check and see how far you’ve dilated, shall we?”</p><p>Last check had him at eight centimeters.  Keith reached for Hunk.  “Help me over to the bed?”</p><p>Hunk put his arms around him to help him stand.  “You got it.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance groaned in the backseat of his car, sweating despite the air conditioning cranked up to the max.  This car was going to wind up smelling like his labor sweat and he was going to have to get the interior cleaned after using it only a few times, qué fastidio.  Sometime in the past few days Shiro had installed the base for their car seat which he could see out of the corner of his tear-clouded eyes, and that wasn’t all that he’d installed.  Vibiana had a brief emergency with the new car alarm that the garage attendant had to help her sort out before she was able to peel out and pick him up, but they were on their way now.  The car’s driver assist had already saved their butts by sending them on an alternate route through Central Park and then up the Henry Hudson Parkway.  Lance hoped Shiro wasn’t going to try to stay on FDR Drive all the way to Harlem River Drive, otherwise he was going to run into the same traffic problem he and Mamá had just narrowly avoided.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Shiro steamed in the backseat of the limo, even though the climate control was perfectly adjusted for the weather conditions.  The private day school located near the intersection just ahead was having some sort of an event, and the parents circling the block looking for parking places were causing a massive slowdown extending for several blocks around them.  Then there was the heated discussion happening right next to him.</p><p>“...just want you to take my concerns seriously, it’s my hypothetical child too.”</p><p>“It’s hard to take your concerns seriously when your idea of raising the discussion is to threaten me with the hypothetical mangling of your dick, which might I add, is my dick too, because marriage says it is!”</p><p>“There was no mangling happening, it was just a ruse!”</p><p>“Exactly my point!”</p><p>Suffice it to say, there was a lot of hot air circulating in the back of the vehicle.  Shiro grit his teeth and mentally willed traffic to move.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith was dilated ten centimeters and Sunny’s heartbeat was still within normal range for a baby during labor.  Keith’s contractions had faded to a dull, persistent throb, and he would have assumed that meant they’d stalled except that everybody could see his abdomen moving rhythmically now.  Nurse Ware had sponge cleaned his entire urogenital triangle with antiseptic and he’d hardly felt the sting, so great was the pressure there that any other sensation offered weak competition.  The time had arrived for pushing.  Keith gripped the bed’s squat bar as the pressure increased, resulting in an urge to bear down.  A male omega’s genital tract was shorter and less tilted than a female’s, so once Sunny’s head made it past the pelvic brim he was coming out fast, unless dystocia happened.</p><p>Hunk held the sweaty hair up off his nape and kissed the side of his face.  “You’ve got this baby, you’re doing amazing.”  Somehow he always knew when Keith was thinking distressing thoughts, and exactly what to do to put those thoughts at bay.</p><p>Doctor Page, who had positioned himself down at the business end of the bed, said, “Let’s have a nice strong push on your next contraction Keith.  How’s it looking over there, Hardison?”</p><p>Nurse Ware stood over by the monitors.  A contraction monitor belt had been added to the menagerie adorning Keith’s half-dressed body.  “Should have a peak coming along very shortly.  Baby’s heartbeat still looks great, no abnormal readings.”</p><p>It just figured that a baby who was chill during pregnancy would be chill during labor too, even while nearly everybody else had been the opposite of chill.</p><p>“All right Keith, get ready.”</p><p>“I’m ready.”</p><p>Keith took a deep breath, and as he felt that throb building to a crescendo he pushed.  Krolia stood on Keith’s other side, rubbing his back and giving encouragement as he bore down.  The doctor advised him to take a short rest between contractions, and that turned out to be prescient, as he subsequently pushed through so many contractions he started to feel wrung out.  Hunk and Krolia continued to cheer him on and coddle him between pushes.  Finally there came an almighty stinging sensation and Doctor Page saying, “Well done Keith, the baby is crowning!  You can ease up on pushing now, just breathe for a minute.”</p><p>Keith breathed as the contraction subsided.  He was vaguely aware of Hunk and Krolia leaning in close and massaging his arms and shoulders, which were sore from his white knuckle grip on the bar.  Nurse Ware and another nurse were running around grabbing things.  It was hard to concentrate on anything but the stinging and the pressure.  Time floated like thistledown, and then it lurched back to earth as Doctor Page told him to gear up for a fresh push.</p><p>“Do you still want the song?” Hunk was asking, and Keith nodded, yes, he needed something to focus on besides the feeling like his pelvic bones were rearranging themselves.  His portable speaker had been packed in the hospital bag.</p><p>
  <em>♬  Here comes the sun... here comes the sun, and I say, it’s all right  ♬</em>
</p><p>Hunk kissed Keith’s face again while Krolia cried in his other ear.  The stinging rose to wasplike intensity, and then receded as Doctor Page told him the head was out and asked for one more push for the shoulders.  Then there were hands down there and a slippery feeling, and all of the sudden there was a naked little baby boy filling Keith’s view, held in the doctor’s gloved grip.  Nurse Ware’s hands appeared with a suction ball to clear the baby’s airways.  The baby took a deep breath, tiny chest expanding, and let out a raspy wail.  Keith realized that he was crying too, and also that he didn’t care if anyone saw it.</p><p>“Are you ready to hold your baby?” asked Doctor Page.</p><p>Keith nodded vigorously.  The nurses rearranged the bed so that he could sit back, and the doctor placed the newborn on his chest.  Keith was vaguely aware of the doctor talking with Hunk about their plans to keep the placenta, but all he could focus on were blue-grey eyes squinting up at him out of a miniature Manabu face topped by a damp scruff of black hair.  Sunny was covered in amniotic fluid with patches of vernix, and he was absolutely perfect.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance was five centimeters dilated already when the nurse checked him into triage.  His contractions were coming like a freight train every three minutes.  The triage nurse put an ID bracelet and an electronic fetal monitoring belt on him, installed an IV hep-lock in his arm and took some blood samples, and then ran off to get his antibiotic drip ready.  He was progressing fast enough that they were concerned about getting him dosed within the ideal four hour window.  He took off his t-shirt and stopped with it in his hand to watch his belly twitch from contractions, which, strangely enough, helped him to maintain focus and breathe through them.  Vibiana rubbed his back and said soothing things in their mother tongue before helping him into the hospital gown, which had more snaps and ties on it than a salon smock.</p><p>Two nurses came back in pulling a bag of fluid on an IV pole with casters, which they hooked up to the hep-lock with a tube.  Then they escorted him to his labor and delivery room, and Lance was relieved to see that he’d gotten the room with the birthing tub in it.  It was a corner tub placed adjacent to the adjustable bed, meaning it should be fairly easy for him to waddle between the two stations as his labor continued.  He wanted to meet his OB nurse before jumping in there, so he let his mother help him get comfortable in the bed.  They’d just gotten the bed into a configuration that let him sit up at an incline that didn’t murder his back when a guy in maroon scrubs came in to ask Lance if he was going to want an epidural.</p><p>Lance was not totally opposed to an epidural, except for one factor.  He looked longingly at the birthing tub.  “Will I be able to labor in there if I have one?”  He knew Doctor Gorma was going to request he return to the bed before pushing, but he had signed off on letting him spend his active labor in there.</p><p>“Once you have the epidural you’re going to need to be confined to the bed for your own safety,” said the technician, who had introduced himself as Murdoch.  “It decreases sensation in the lower half of your body, which eases the pain of labor but it also makes it difficult to walk.”</p><p>That answered that question.  Lance thanked Murdoch for checking in on him and bid a wistful farewell to the analgesics.  The next person who came in was the dedicated OB nurse, a lanky fellow in light blue scrubs who introduced himself as Zandee.  The nurse was gregarious and endeared himself to Lance immediately by telling him that he could get in the tub as soon as he reached six centimeters dilated.</p><p>“We can take you off the IV drip in about twenty minutes, how about I check your dilation when I come back in to do that?  Sound good?”</p><p>As Lance felt another contraction kicking into gear, he thought that sounded great.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith’s postpartum room was full of bright flowers and shiny Mylar balloons, but none of them were as pleasing in Hunk’s sight as Keith’s peacefully sleeping face in the fully reclined hospital bed, mouth open and snoring away.  Sleeping in the cot right next to him was little Sunny, recently named Kiyoshi Heliodorus Kogane Garrett, nine pounds seven ounces.  He’d been weighed, measured and given his eye drops and vitamin K while Keith was delivering the placenta, and then Keith had given him his first feed in the delivery room before the nurses had put matching ID bracelets on baby and both parents and moved them in here.  Hunk was spending the night on the room’s sofa bed, and Krolia had just left to go back to their place and watch Kosmo.  Some friends and family had already been in for brief visits, and messages had been sent out to others, but there was one particular family member who hadn’t been contacted yet.  Hunk crept into the attached bathroom with his cell phone and cracked the door shut before swiping open the app.</p><p>The video stream opened up on a view of his own living room via a camera positioned right above the television set, just like the security salesperson told him it would.  Kosmo wasn’t in the room, so Hunk said, “Kosmo, here boy.”  The cam’s microphone picked up the sound of paws thudding as Kosmo ran into the living room.  Then the dog looked around with his ears perked and this was the part Hunk hadn’t anticipated because this cam was only one way, so Kosmo could hear him but he couldn’t see him.  Of course the poor dog was confused.</p><p>“It’s okay Kosmo,” he said, and Kosmo made a frustrated vocalization in response.  “Krolia will be there in just a little while.  We’ll all be home together before you know it.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>When Zandee returned Lance had dilated to seven centimeters and his water still hadn’t broken, leading the nurse to speculate that the membranes might rupture in transition when his contractions inevitably intensified.  Zandee disconnected Lance from the IV pole and filled the tub with water calibrated to a temperature of ninety-seven degrees Fahrenheit.  Vibiana helped Lance into his stretchy top.  Then Zandee attached a wireless patch monitor to Lance’s belly and he and Vibiana helped him climb into the tub.  The warm water was an immediate relief to the band of pain caused by his balls drawing up into his straining pelvis.</p><p>“Blood pressure’s looking good,” Zandee said, pleased with the readouts on the monitor.</p><p>The buoyancy in the tub supported Lance’s belly and spine as his body was gripped by another contraction.  Vibiana brought over a cold damp rag to hold against the back of his neck, creating a focal point to bring him back around to controlling his breathing.</p><p>“You can do this, mijo,” she said.</p><p>Lance was so glad for her unwavering presence at his side, but he really wanted to do this with Shiro there too.  Where the hell was he?</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Shiro had been in the back of the limo for what seemed like an eternity.  Beside him, Adam and Curtis had finally resolved their differences and gotten cuddly, while in front of him Kai studiously minded traffic and his own business as only a really good chauffeur could do.  Eventually Shiro’s unexpected limo guests remembered that he was there and Adam turned in Curtis’s arms to ask as casually as if they’d run into each other at a cocktail party, “So what have you been up to lately, Shiro?”</p><p>“I’m trying to reach my mate in time to watch my daughter being born,” Shiro said.</p><p>“Oh my gosh Shiro,” said Curtis, “and here we sit arguing over a baby we don’t even know for sure is on the way, we’re so sorry.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault,” Shiro said.  </p><p>He would have been stuck in traffic whether Adam got into the back seat or not, their presence had not slowed down anything except for Shiro’s perception of time.  Although there was also a chance he would have been back there clawing the upholstery and pointlessly pestering Kai if they hadn’t been there providing a distraction, so maybe he should be thanking them.  Or at least, Kai should be thanking them.  Perhaps Kai had been thanking them by not remarking on their presence.</p><p>“Shirogane-san, we are almost there,” said Kai as he turned onto a street with a tree-lined median.  The blue hour was settling in and the street lights were all beginning to turn on.  “Shall I let you out at the front?”</p><p>“Yes!”  Shiro felt his adrenaline start to ramp up again.  “And take Adam and Curtis anywhere they want to go.”</p><p>Kai pulled up the ramp to the front entrance and had not even come to a full, complete stop before Shiro was launching himself out of the vehicle and running for the glass door.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Doctor Gorma arrived on the scene not long after Zandee had returned and begun trying to cajole Lance out of the wonderful, marvelous tub so that he could check his dilation.  “We have to administer your second dose of antibiotics soon too, wouldn’t you like to already be comfortable in bed when it’s time to hook you back up to the IV?”</p><p>Lance wallowed in the warm water.  “Just a little longer,” he said.  Zandee’s idea of ‘comfortable in bed’ was nonsense, and surely it hadn’t been that long since the last round?  That would mean Shiro had been MIA for almost four hours now.</p><p>“Your contractions are increasing in frequency and your waters could break at any minute,” Doctor Gorma said.  “You need to be out of there before it’s time to start pushing.”</p><p>Lance’s mother was less into diplomacy.  “Lancito get out of that tub, ahora mismo.”</p><p>Lance was on the verge of saying something that would result in a shoe being thrown at him when Shiro came skidding around the corner like the high point of an old Hollywood musical.  “Shiro!”  Lance started trying to push himself upright to get out of the tub.</p><p>“Now he gets out,” Vibiana grumbled, but she stepped forward to help him out of the water and back into his hospital gown.</p><p>After that, things started happening faster.  They lowered the bed so that Lance could get onto it, and then put his legs up in the calf supports so that Doctor Gorma could check how far he was dilated.  “Nine centimeters, you’re transitioning, it’s no wonder we had so much trouble getting you out of the tub!” he said, and Lance wanted to wop him upside the head.  Then his water finally broke in a gush that soaked Doctor Gorma’s scrubs and that was even better than a wallop would have been, but this was shortly followed by intense pressure on his perineum.</p><p>“I need to move.”  He pulled his legs out of the calf supports and started trying to roll off the bed.  Shiro reached out to help him, and Lance grasped him by the forearms, leaning forward into him as another contraction took him into a groaning spiral.</p><p>“Tell me what you need, honey.”</p><p>“I just need to stand here for a minute,” Lance gritted out, gripping Shiro by the shoulders now, head down.  He heard guttural sounds coming out of himself, and he did not care.  Shiro let him lean on his chest swaying in a clumsy slow dance.</p><p>He didn’t know how long they danced that way before Zandee reminded him that he needed a second dose of antibiotics.  They reconfigured the bed into the throne position so that he could hook up his IV again while the doctor checked his cervix.</p><p>“You’re fully dilated, Lance,” he said.  “You can push at any time.”</p><p>And he did need to push.  With Shiro to brace his left arm and Vibiana to brace his right, he bore down as his body dictated, heedless of any other bodily requirements, until there began a sensation down below like someone was holding a butane lighter to his crotch.</p><p>“It’s the ring of fire!” Zandee proclaimed with that happy disposition which had so pleased Lance earlier but now filled him with annoyance.  “It’s because the baby is crowning!  You can touch it!”</p><p>Then there were fingers down there where the burning was coming from.</p><p>“Oh my god Lance, it’s her head!”  Shiro sounded overcome.  “You should touch it too, do you want to feel it?”  </p><p>He grasped Lance’s hand to pull it down there, but Lance jerked it back.  “I can feel her head splitting me in two, I don’t need to touch it with my hand to know it’s there!”  He made a grab for Shiro’s floof, but the man danced out of the way like a prize fighter.</p><p>“Let’s just take a moment to breathe in and out,” Doctor Gorma suggested.</p><p>Lance refocused his attention on his breath as the doctor’s gloved fingers gently pried around down there and then applied a warm compress to the area.  Vibiana put another cool cloth on the back of his neck and he started to relax enough to let Shiro approach him again.</p><p>“No distress for mama or baby,” said Zandee from clear across the room.</p><p>“I think we’re just about ready to deliver this little one,” said Doctor Gorma.  “Lance, do you want to change positions or stay as you are?”</p><p>“Side,” Lance said, looking at Shiro standing meekly next to him.  He hoped that his apology for the attempted floofectomy was conveyed in his eyes.  “Hold my leg up?”  His limbs felt like noodles from exhaustion.</p><p>Shiro smiled down at him.  “Your wish is my command.”</p><p>Zandee came back over to take the IV out and access the bed’s control panel to program it for a side lying position, while Shiro moved to stand behind Lance and grasp him behind the knee.  The pressure increased, and he pushed through it, feeling the energy build up to a point that he felt compelled to utter a kiai and then out popped the baby’s head.</p><p>“Good job Lance,” said Doctor Gorma while Zandee stepped forward to suction her airways and Shiro kissed his sweaty face.  “There are no obstructions, we’ve just got to get her shoulders out and your daughter will be here.”</p><p>“You can do it, honey.”</p><p>“¡Sigue así!”</p><p>Lance breathed and he pushed.  He felt a slip-sliding sensation along his thigh, and then Doctor Gorma was lifting a little baby girl, tiny face pink with outrage as she began to let everybody in the vicinity know that she was not happy to have been forcibly removed from the mom-spa, thanks ever so.  Zandee adjusted the bed again and Lance’s mother helped him unsnap the shoulders on his gown so that they could lay Carolína across his chest.  Her angry cries dissolved into confused whimpers as she peered up at him out of dark blue eyes.  The top of her head was feathered in damp black hair, a future floof if Lance ever saw one.  Shiro laid the palm of his hand over her small back and covered it entirely.</p><p>“There you are,” Lance said as he held his baby and his baby’s father held them both.  “There you are.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The hospital lobby was full of Alvárezes.  Also Kai, Kuro, Adam and Curtis.  Most of Lance’s family had come right out as soon as they got the all clear that he was admitted, aside from a few who stayed behind to watch after the children.  Rachel had brought Kuro with her, and Kai had elected to stay when Adam and Curtis decided to go ahead and get a pregnancy test done since they were already at a hospital with an obstetrics unit.  Shiro greeted them all ecstatically, hugging people and kissing cheeks in a manner that would ruin his reputation for being calm and in control, but he couldn’t seem to help it.  It felt as if “Isn’t She Lovely” was on permanent replay in his mind.</p><p>“You better not be this ridiculous when it’s my turn,” Adam told Curtis.</p><p>“My heart, I may be even more ridiculous,” Curtis replied.  “Best get used to the idea now.”</p><p>Shiro laughed and danced with his in-laws and his little brother, while Kai called his wife to check in on her and share the good news, and Adam and Curtis continued to lovingly bicker at each other.  His daughter was just born, seven pounds eight ounces.  She had ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes, and her sense of smell was outstanding, she found Lance’s teat after just a few seconds of rooting.  It was a precious day to be alive in the world.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Carolína had all of her required tests done and a lactation specialist had been to Lance’s postpartum room to show him some tips on how to get her to latch on, although to be perfectly honest he thought his own mother was going to be a better resource for helping him with that over the long term.  Currently Lance was feeling semi-human again in his raggedy-comfy old clothes while enjoying his own breakfast of mushroom omelet and blueberry yogurt.  Caro slept in the hospital’s clear bassinet next to his bed.  The best part of waking up, besides seeing his child’s sleeping face right next to him of course, was the coffee in his lidded cup, because he got an upgrade to two cups a day now, and he was savoring it.  Shiro had stayed over for most of the night, before Lance finally sent him home to shower and rest, because the ‘foldout’ for the co-parent in their private room was a hilarious chair-with-ottoman type situation.  He was coming back later so they could finish filling out the parent worksheet for Caro’s birth certificate.</p><p>Right now, Lance was talking to Keith on Skype.  They’d been sharing war stories and admiring each other’s babies.  Both babies had the same orchid petal skin of all newborns, wrapped in the same blue and pink striped receiving blanket used by all hospitals coast to coast, but they were unique and special to them because they were theirs.  Then a nurse had wheeled up to give Keith a lunch of what looked like baked ziti with zucchini in it, so his mouth was a little busy at the moment.  Lance took advantage of the conversational lull to drink some more coffee and polish off the omelet.  After months of strictly rationed coffee and a couple weeks of eating natto for breakfast, Lance was finding the hospital food to be not bad at all.</p><p>Suddenly, Hunk appeared in the background of the frame in Keith’s room.  <em>“Guys, turn on CNN, quick.”</em>  He was already tiptoeing over to snatch up the room’s remote and turn on the TV, trying not to be too loud because of the sleeping baby, but something had him atingle.  <em>“You’re never going to believe it.”</em></p><p>“What?”  But Lance picked up his room’s remote and turned on the TV, because anything that could make Hunk that fired up must be worth a look-see.</p><p>A news channel anchor with red helmet hair was speaking from a studio with an inset picture of what looked like a castle, with a ticker informing viewers that they were looking at King Harold’s Castle at Universal Studios Singapore.  <em>“...male omega of advanced maternal age went into precipitous labor and gave birth on the attraction Shrek’s 4-D Adventure.  More on this from our on-the-scene correspondent Trayling Commodari.  Trayling?”</em></p><p>The inset widened to the forefront of the screen, showing an older gentlemen with a newscaster swoop of lacquered grey hair, elegant whiskers and piercing blue eyes.  “<em>Thank you Hira.  I’m here with Universal Studios cast member Sahlia, who can tell us more about the events that transpired within the castle.”</em></p><p>The correspondent held out his microphone so that a woman dressed to resemble Princess Fiona in her human form could speak excitedly to the camera.  As her words tumbled out in another language, a brief time-delayed AI translated for her in a deadpan voice.  <em>“It happened during the main show.  He and his mate were seated in the front row.  His water broke during an early scene where Donkey sneezes.  The audience was sprayed with water, so nobody noticed it happen.  Then the leg ticklers came on and the audience’s screams covered his shouts.  The motion seats came on during the first chase sequence and may have sped up his labor.  This is why pregnant people are not supposed to go on the ride.  The scene after that was set in a graveyard, so his mate thought that he was just whimpering in fear.  Then there is another chase sequence with more special effects.  Nobody noticed there was a baby until the house lights came back on.”</em></p><p><em>“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to share your experience with our audience, Sahlia.”</em>  Trayling’s face once more filled the screen.  <em>“The omega, Coran Heironymous Wimbleton Dayak née Smythe, was removed from the scene by paramedics with his mate and his newborn, a baby girl.  Roll footage.”</em>  Trayling’s aristocratic mug was replaced with zoomed in footage of Coran being toted out of the castle on a stretcher with a wrapped bundle in his arms and Nanette Dayak looming over his shoulder as a reporter from a local news team held out a microphone in his direction and called out for a comment.  Coran shouted tearfully, <em>“I swear I didn’t know I was pregnant!”</em> before Nanette lunged at the reporter and the footage abruptly stopped.  <em>“We’re told they’re recovering nicely,”</em> said Trayling.  <em>“Back to you, Hira.”</em></p><p><em>“Can you believe it?”</em>  Hunk grinned.  <em>“Coran is a mom!  This is so exciting.”</em></p><p>Then his son required a diaper change and Hunk got some more excitement in his life.  Lance might have to leave the bed and get some excitement for himself in a minute. Haruka hadn’t been exaggerating about him leaking for a while after the main event.  Doctor Gorma had told him he could look forward to lochia discharge for about a month, though the heaviest part might taper off after the first week.  He was probably going to be changing his own diaper about as often as Caro’s for the first little while at least.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance was feeding Carolína when Shiro walked into the private room with the parent worksheet and a vase of pink stargazer lilies.  He stopped and stood in the doorway a moment to appreciate the sight of his spouse bent over their child so tenderly, the little suckling noises she made, and the soft scent of baby all around.  The remains of Lance’s own lunch sat on the over-bed tray, which he’d pushed aside to make room for Caro.  He looked up and smiled at Shiro as he finally stepped forward to set the flowers down on the nearest available surface and take a seat in the visitor’s chair next to the bed.</p><p>“Hi there, daddy.”</p><p>Shiro smiled back at him.  “Hey mama.  Have you decided on Caro’s middle name yet?”</p><p>Shiro himself didn’t really have a strong preference on this one.  It was mostly for Lance’s mother and Caro’s godparents so that they could use it in a christening ceremony when she was one month old.  Vibiana had decided to stay on a little while longer to help Lance adjust to new motherhood.  She had also volunteered to help Shiro with administrative tasks around the office part-time while Rachel was on her honeymoon, which would have the additional benefit of helping Omnia prepare to go on maternity leave.  It seemed that Shiro’s wish to have family at work was coming true in a rather literal fashion.</p><p>“I was thinking Magdalena would be appropriate.”  Caro unlatched and Lance passed her carefully cradled in his hands over to Shiro to be burped.  “Caro was born on her feast day.  She’s the patron saint of hairstylists.”</p><p>“Carolína Magdalena Shirogane.  That’s a big name.”  Shiro took her cherished weight on his shoulder, patting her teeny back.  “Something tells me she’s going to grow into it, though.”</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith waited in the backseat of the Crosstrek while Hunk went inside ahead of him.  Hunk had brought Sunny’s receiving blanket home with him the previous night for Kosmo to sniff, and he’d given the dog a really long walk before leaving to pick up Keith and Sunny from the hospital.  Now he was going in first to make sure that Kosmo understood not to jump on Keith when he came in carrying Sunny in his car seat.  Hunk leaned out of the open door to wave that it was alright to come in.  Keith disconnected the Graco SnugRide from its base and took his precious cargo out of the vehicle.</p><p>He’d like to start using the ring sling to carry Sunny around in, but for this first time he really appreciated the padded bulk of the car seat.  If Kosmo did jump, it would hopefully protect his baby’s fragile body.  Kosmo had gotten bigger, by about ten pounds and another inch at the withers.  He could conceivably continue to grow throughout Sunny’s first year of life.  Keith stepped into the foyer and saw Kosmo sitting a couple of feet behind Hunk.  His tail started flapping the floor as soon as he saw Keith.</p><p>“Gentle,” Hunk said.</p><p>Kosmo knew what that command meant thanks to all those practice runs with Stunt Sunny.  He slowly walked over to Keith and sniffed around his waist and the bottom of the carrier in Keith’s arms.  He gave a quizzical noise and looked up at Keith for further instructions.</p><p>“Good boy,” Keith said softly.</p><p>Kosmo’s tail wagged, and he danced in place but he didn’t jump.  They were going to be fine.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The nursery had been closed off when Socrates began his stay there, much to Atlas’s dismay.  It was going to continue to be closed off after he and his parents went home.  Lance and Shiro hoped to break Atlas of the habit of sleeping on the faded rose rug before Caro was old enough to start using the crib regularly.  They brought Caro home dressed in the yellow receiving outfit which had been a gift from her grandmother, with Shiro driving the Camry while Lance sat behind him hovering over the car seat.  The little yellow socks had been worn on Kuro’s fingers to pet Atlas, so when Lance brought Caro into Kuro’s room to make the introductions, her feet smelled like the kitty.  Lance and Kuro sat down on his bed with Caro in her car seat between them to await Atlas’s approach.</p><p>Atlas jumped up on Kuro’s bed.  He had taken to sleeping with Kuro while Lance and Shiro were at the hospital, which was propitious, at least in the short term.  The cat pitter-patted across the black covers to sniff delicately at the sleeping baby’s feet.  Caro’s tiny feet twitched in plantar reflex at the cat’s investigations.  Atlas sat back on his haunches and was praised by Lance and Kuro for being so calm.  The cat blinked at them as if to say, <em>yes I know silly humans, why are you so surprised</em>.  It was a promising start.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith rocked in his swivel glider nursing Sunny while Kosmo lay vigilantly at his feet.  Outside, Hunk was planting the placenta, carefully wrapped in a compostable bag, underneath of an orange tree seedling.  Tommy was out there helping him, while Gyrgan and Krolia had gone to go pick up their dinner.  It was a quiet and relaxing welcome home, which was exactly what Keith had hoped for.  There would be time to have the rest of their family and friends over later on.  For now, Keith rocked his baby in the chair which he’d lined with a blanket Hunk had scented for him, and the world felt like a brighter place than it had just days before.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“I’m so glad I’m not a groomsman,” Lance said, looking down out of the nursery window.  He and Dorma were watching the door games taking place below on the front stoop. Kuro and Kiere had challenged Daniel to prove his love by making him and his groomsmen pass a helium balloon between them without using their hands, and these balloons did not have ribbons, because that would have been too easy.  One balloon had been lost to the sky.  A second one had been broken by Daniel’s teeth, and it was a good thing that it only took five seconds for the funny voice to wear off or he’d have been saying his vows like Alvin and the Chipmunks.</p><p>“I think they’ve got it this time,” said Dorma, but she spoke too soon, because what was Kiere doing to that balloon?  “Oh no.”  She was covering it in whipped cream, that’s what she was doing.  “Oh, she’s evil.  I think I like her.”</p><p>Kiere and Kuro cackled as they passed the whipped cream covered balloon to the hapless groomsman, who tried to grasp the slippery balloon with his lips, realized he was about to lose another one to outer space and head-butted it downward in an attempt to keep it from going further airborne.  Then his buddy next to him caught it with his chin and tried to pass it to Daniel, who didn’t dare mess up his clothes and tried to catch it with the sole of his shoe.  He wound up kicking it instead and the cream-laden balloon swerved up into the sky.  Lance and Dorma fell about the room laughing.</p><p>“I hope that poor guy has a change of clothes.”</p><p>The first groomsman just needed his face and hair washed, which could be accomplished by sticking his head under a sink faucet (though Lance might take pity and treat him to a shampoo using his portable basin) but the second one needed a fresh shirt and tie.  He could better afford to change his clothes at this point than Daniel could, though.  Lance himself was already dressed for the tea ceremony in the lilac colored frock Ren had talked him into purchasing, and she had been right, his belly was not completely gone yet.  To think he’d once been concerned about his feet getting bigger.  He’d been wearing the haramaki that Haruka had given him since coming home from the hospital, and it offered blessed abdominal support, but he’d discovered that the top line of it showed under the raised waistline of this frock so he had to put it aside just for this morning.  It was going right back on after everybody left.</p><p>It was a mixed blessing to be under doctor’s orders to breastfeed exclusively for a month.  He barely wanted to leave Caro for the amount of time it was going to take to participate in the tea ceremony; he didn’t know how he would have managed to sit through a church wedding and reception while wondering if she was hungry or if a postpartum contraction was suddenly going to remind him of the reason he was still obliged to wear padded underwear.  However, she needed a feed every two to three hours, and with Shiro unable to pinch hit with the bottle yet, Lance’s days were sleepy ones.  Luckily Shiro was willing and able to tag in for burping and diaper duties, as well as rocking her to sleep.  Watching Shiro do skin to skin with their baby was about the cutest thing Lance had ever seen.</p><p>Down on the stoop, Kuro and Kiere had taken mercy on the guys and told them they could come in and retrieve Rachel if they sang a song.  They pulled out a few decent bars of “True Love’s Kiss” and were granted entrance to the residence.  Rachel was waiting (and no doubt watching) in the front parlor.  She was not yet in the gown Mamá had made for her, though, nor was Daniel in his tux.  For this tea ceremony and the one following it at Ren’s apartment, Rachel was wearing a petticoat and long skirt embroidered with a dragon and phoenix motif in red and gold.  It matched the suit Daniel was currently wearing, and in fact those outfits had belonged to his parents, so it was really no wonder that he wouldn’t want to risk dairy products coming into contact with his beautiful red jacket.</p><p>The rear parlor was decorated in double happiness symbols with the furniture rearranged so that up to two people at a time could be seated while Rachel and Daniel knelt on flat cushions to serve the tea.  The red and gold porcelain tea set arranged on the wet bar was from Lance and Shiro’s own kitchen.  The one from the betrothal gift was at Ren’s place, awaiting the tea ceremony which would take place there after this one convened, and before Rachel went with Mamá and her two bridal attendants to Luis’s hotel room to change for the church wedding.  Mamá was being served first, followed by Lance’s older siblings and their spouses.  Dorma squeezed Lance’s shoulder before leaving the nursery to await her turn.  Later she and Veronica would be taking Socrates over to Rachel’s place to let him jump on her bed for good luck, but she hadn’t seen any wisdom in interrupting his morning nap for this portion of the day’s planned activities.</p><p>Not too long after Dorma left, Kuro came in to collect him.  He and Kiere were already wearing their bridal attendant frocks.  “I will watch over Socrates and mei-chan,” Kuro said, standing over Caro’s bassinet with a gentle smile.  Her hair was the most amazing dandelion puff of black down.  If she followed the example of other babies Lance had known then she’d probably lose it over the next few months and regain it a few months after that, possibly at a different texture than it was now, but Lance was still convinced she was destined for a floof.  “Go,” Kuro said, “drink tea.”</p><p>Lance went.  He descended the stairs and found Shiro waiting on the parlor floor landing with an arm out for him to grasp.  Shiro was dressed for the wedding in one of his grey suits that fit him in all the right ways.  Lance felt a little twinge in his downstairs area reminding him that there was a reason he was supposed to wait two weeks at the absolute minimum before attempting intercourse again.  Shiro kissed Lance’s face and tucked his hand in the crook of his elbow.</p><p>“I wish you were coming with me,” he said as they began their slow promenade down the hall to the rear parlor.</p><p>Shiro was going to the church ceremony, but he would be rejoining Lance for dinner instead of going to the reception.  Haruka had made them bento boxes, as she and Kai would be going out to enjoy the banquet at the Cantonese restaurant where the reception was being held.  She was letting them babysit Midori for a couple of hours.  It was a momentous occasion.</p><p>“You’ll just have to get some good footage for me,” Lance replied.  Shiro had been given permission to take some film with his phone’s camera, as long as his filming didn’t interfere with the ceremony.</p><p>“I will,” he promised.  “We’ll watch it over dinner and Lancitos.”  Lance had given Shiro the recipe so that he could mix them each one drink and they could observe a private toast.  The lactation consultant had told him that an occasional drink wouldn’t be harmful as long as he kept in mind that it would take a couple of hours for the alcohol to fully metabolize out of his system.  If they timed it right, it should be okay.</p><p>They took their places on the velvet loveseat, Shiro on the right in front of Daniel, and Lance on the left in front of Rachel.  Kiere stood off to the side with two cups of tea ready on a tray.  Rachel had brewed the bolay tea and prepared the cups with longan and red dates for sweetness and luck.  There had been some back and forth on whether Lance should be included in this part of the ceremony or in the second part since he was a younger sibling, but Shiro being Daniel’s work superior as well as the couple’s benefactor in several other respects overrode that concern.  Daniel took the first cup from the tray and offered it to Shiro with both hands.  Shiro accepted the cup and bestowed blessings on the young couple before sipping the tea.</p><p>Kiere set the tea tray down on an end table and held out a basket for Shiro to deposit a red envelope.  The envelope contained Shiro’s other bestowal for the couple.  Traditionally it would be gold or money, but Shiro had put the deed to Rachel’s apartment in there instead.  Now it was Lance’s turn.  Kiere picked up the tea tray and Rachel took the other cup from it and held it out to Lance with both hands.</p><p>“Brother, please drink tea.”</p><p>Lance thanked his sister and tasted the tea, sweet and earthy.  He knew that when they repeated this ceremony at Ren’s apartment they would be greeted with lucky sayings in Cantonese.  He didn’t know any of those sayings, so he’d decided to use one Rachel should be familiar with.</p><p>“Quien bien ama, tarde olvida.  Never forget your love for one another, for it is gold.”  His gift for them was two gold medallions.  Saint Joseph for Daniel, Saint Rosalia for Rachel.</p><p>Then it was Daniel and Rachel’s turn to sit on the love seat while Sylvio and Nadia came forward to serve them tea.  Lance stood under Shiro’s arm watching the sweet moment play out as the wedding photographer who had been dispatched to cover this ceremony discreetly snapped pictures from the best angle for natural light.  Thank goodness the studio hadn’t sent Roy Fokker again for this assignment.  Lance wasn’t sure what the reaction to his flirting would have been this time, and he was pleased to not have to find out.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>“I have never been to a first birthday party before.”</p><p>Kolivan looked hilariously awkward sitting across from the girls in their highchairs, with Kova sprawled on the back of the couch behind him.  He had a present in his lap that had been wrapped with military precision.  Narti wasn’t sure if he’d say yes to coming over, but she figured since he’d stayed at the fire lookout tower he must not be averse to hanging out with them.  Or at least, near them.  A drop cloth had been laid under the highchairs.  The reason for that came out of the kitchen on a tray being carried by Acxa.</p><p>“Relax,” Narti told him as Acxa unloaded a small skillet cake for each girl to smash.  “They’re too young to remember this, and you’re the only party guest, so nobody will care if you sing Happy Birthday off key.”</p><p>“I am not tone deaf,” Kolivan insisted.</p><p>“Prove it, Uncle Kolivan,” Narti said.</p><p>He did, in the most operatic rendition of Happy Birthday Narti had ever heard.  The girls went wild for it.  Uncle Kolivan could stick around if he wanted to.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith would have never in a million years thought that one of his favorite activities could be staring into a baby’s eyes.  Sunny was all snuggly in one of the side snap onesies from the baby shower.  This one was short-sleeved with butterfly shapes imprinted on it from the resist dye.  Keith sat back in the nest of blankets scented by Hunk and Krolia, which he’d fashioned into an upright pillow of sorts by rolling several of them together with another one tied around them, and then propped them up against the headboard.  Hunk was endlessly patient with his nesting experiments in their bed.  Keith had Sunny in his lap to swaddle him for a nap in his playard, but he couldn’t resist having a cuddle first.</p><p>Sunny’s skin was so sweet-smelling and soft.  It had recently begun to take on a golden cast which had made Hunk freak out and call the doctor, afraid it was jaundice because they’d delayed clamping the umbilical cord.  Their new pediatrician had examined Sunny and laughingly told Hunk that the baby was fine, he was just starting to develop some of his melanin.  It would probably be a few months before his skin and eye color fully settled, but right now he had skin of muted gold which Keith personally thought was beautiful, and clear eyes such a similar color to his own that Krolia was convinced that they were already settled.  Keith let tiny fingers close around his thumbs as he gazed down into those blue-grey peepers.  Sunny gurgled and wiggled his feet.</p><p>Keith heard the comforting sounds of Hunk in the kitchen making dinner.  They were having ginger basil chicken with coconut rice, and they were going to have a little of that sweet wine Ina had given them, but that was for later.  Time was temporarily suspended in this bedroom which smelled sweet like baby.  The world outside and all of its wonders could wait another day.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance’s heaviest bleeding tapered off just in time for his birthday.  Vibiana had begun going to the office with Shiro part-time – being the name on the letterhead meant paternity leave was more of a flex time situation for Shiro than extended time off – but today Mamá had stayed home to watch Caro while Lance took a long shower and then hopped into the ofuro for a relaxing soak.  Rachel and Daniel were still on their honeymoon at Disneyland, and the others all had jobs they needed to get back home to, which was probably for the best because Lance wasn’t sure if he had enough energy to stay awake through a real birthday party.  Shiro had brought Lance breakfast in bed before leaving to take care of something that required his personal touch, but he’d be back in time for a birthday dinner that Lance wasn’t supposed to know that Haruka was making for him.  Then after that, Lance had been promised a foot rub, and he aimed to collect.  Hopefully he wouldn’t fall asleep in the middle of it.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Keith found Block’s village kind of eerie.  Stone thatch-roofed houses had stone people half-emerging from them as if ready to start their day.  The well was unusable because it was stone, possibly all the way down to the water table but that was difficult to determine when the pump was frozen in place.  Even the cabbages in the fields were stone.  Meanwhile the forest around the village’s stone palisade remained as pastorally serene as ever.  Thunderstorm Darkness consulted the map Block had drawn up of the village grounds to figure out which stone building was the garrison.</p><p>Peacemaker had picked the town garrison during his turn at guard duty because of its easy access to the back gates.  A player bivouacking there could get water from the nearby lake fairly easily while still sleeping within the relative safety of the stone palisade.  Ada had used her family’s own cottage during her turn, claiming she found their stone faces around her comforting rather than upsetting.  Thunderstorm and Pike had decided to follow Peacemaker’s example and use the garrison.  There was a fishing hut located right on the banks of the lake, but it was outside of the stone palisade so that would have to be used as a daytime shelter rather than nighttime.  Thunderstorm approached the squat two storey building, which had originally been made of stone so it was the only structure in the village that didn’t look completely unnatural in its present state.</p><p>This building was meant to host the village’s night watch, as well as a rotating roster of guards sent over from the nearest keep, and whatever knights of the realm might be passing through.  Consequently, the garrison was roughly as large as the village’s inn, but better fortified.  Thunderstorm strode past the defensive wall into the enclosed courtyard.  To the right of him was the bastion, the lower part of which had been used for dry goods storage.  All of the dry goods had been turned to stone, so Peacemaker had to haul in what he could and had left some of that behind for Ada, and Ada in turn had left some behind for them.  Block and Hav’a’beero had also come through ahead of them with supplies, so there was little chance of Thunderstorm, Pike or their combined offspring losing hit points from starvation.</p><p>To the left was all of the living space.  The top floor had the barracks, arsenal and the commander’s quarters.  Peacemaker had mentioned that there were several stone guards asleep in their stone beds up there and it was kind of creepy at night.  He had stayed on the lower floor instead, which had the mess hall, kitchen, and a series of rooms which had been used by the quartermaster.   The quartermaster’s stone personage was nowhere on the premises, which Block thought was odd.  Thunderstorm thought it was suspicious as hell.</p><p>Suspicious or not, the lower floor was also where Thunderstorm and Pike were staying.  Thunderstorm heard a little chirp from the basket he was wearing high on his back, reminding him of why he needed to get settled in sooner rather than later.  His broodling was hungry.  Heith looked like an adorable human baby, but instead of crying he chirped and tweeted, and he ate grubs and seeds.  There should be plenty of seeds in the dry goods storage, but Thunderstorm needed to get a move on if he wanted to find grubs before sundown.  There wouldn’t be any live ones within the stone palisades, so he was going to have to make a trip out to the fishing hut.</p><p>Pike could watch over Heith while Thunderstorm was on his errand.  Thunderstorm went into the mess hall and that was where he found Pike, who had kindled a fire and set up a blanket nest in front of the fireplace.  Someone – maybe bandits, but possibly Hav’a’beero – had turned the stone tables and chairs into rubble, which had been moved to the room’s corners to make more space in the center for Pike and his kittens to spread out.  Spread out they had, as Pike lay prone so that the kittens could crawl over him and nurse.  Pidge had found a recording of real kittens nursing, amped it up to eleven and somehow modded it into the game.  Keith could hardly hear Lance kvetching at him over the sounds of mewling, suckling kittens and his own laughter.</p><p>Eventually the kittens fell asleep and all was blessedly quiet.  Like Pike, they were humanoid with distinctly felinoid features.  Lance said, <em>“Pidge, you need to turn that down enough so we can hear if any bandits are coming.”</em></p><p><em>“Yeah, yeah.”</em>  Pidge didn’t sound repentant in the least.  <em>“You gonna introduce us to your litter?”</em></p><p><em>“This is Ichiro.”</em>  Pike pointed out one with calico markings on its fur.  <em>“And here is Subzero.”</em>  A superfluffy black-furred one.  <em>“This is Shed’a’tearo.”</em>  That one had long white fur.  <em>“Superhero.”</em>  A tiger-striped one.  <em>“Casimiro.”</em>  Seal point fur.  <em>“And last but not least, Gyro.”</em></p><p>“Who decided to give Gyro skunk fur?” Keith asked.</p><p><em>“Don’t blame me,”</em> Pidge replied, <em>“Lance asked for that.”</em></p><p>Pike leaned up on one elbow, a pixilated picture of parental outrage.  <em>“You talking smack about my kitten?”</em>  Then he gave away the game by busting out laughing.</p><p>“Happy birthday, you big goof.”  Keith smiled at his friend’s avatar on the screen.</p><p>
  <em>“Thanks, man.  And for the record, Gyro has a tuxedo coat.”</em>
</p><p>They continued to chat amiably about everything and nothing as Pidge futzed in the background making them some automated routines so that their characters could raise virtual infants without having to be directed by a live player, leaving them free to focus on the more demanding task of raising real ones.  Keith had begun pumping milk so that Hunk could take on some of the feeding duties and he could take more naps, but it was still a round the clock job.  A very rewarding one, no question.  However, Keith was looking forward to a weekly meet up with Lance in the virtual village so they could recalibrate the character routines and talk about whatever dumb shit happened over the previous week.  He was also looking forward to pizza for dinner.  They were going to use that gift certificate Pidge had given them at the baby shower, and it was gonna be so good.</p><p>“I’ll raise a slice in your honor,” he told Lance.</p><p><em>“I’m touched,”</em> Lance said.</p><p>The fact that Pidge refrained from the obvious followup comment to that statement could be interpreted as her birthday present for Lance.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Lance sat back against the headboard with his feet in Shiro’s lap, feeling relaxed and full.  He’d eaten a hell of a lot of garlic knots at dinner and he didn’t regret a morsel. Shiro’s warm thumb applied gentle pressure to the arch of his foot while holding his heel securely in his opposite hand.  Lance could have dozed off right there if not for the whimper from the canopied bassinet.  They’d set it up on Shiro’s side of the bed, since Lance slept closer to the terrace doors and he worried about Carolína getting chilled from a draft.</p><p>The foot of the bed which had worked for Hiyoko the robo-baby wouldn’t do for Caro the real baby, because it was closer to the fireplace and Lance worried about her catching either a draft if the fireplace was unlit, or an ember if it had a fire in it.  So the robo-bassinet (and its aftermarket canopy in case of kitty visits) lived on the side of the bed where Shiro slept, and he’d remembered the lesson about proper head support.  Lance had walked back what he’d half-jokingly said during the robo-baby incident.  Shiro had been a good sport about taking her out of the swaddle and passing her over on occasions when the auto-shushing didn’t work, and he’d taken his share of turns changing diapers too.</p><p>The auto-shushing wasn’t going to work this time, Lance could already tell.  Nor was it a dirty diaper.  “She’s hungry.”</p><p>Shiro paused with the foot massage.  “You’re sure?”</p><p>Lance nodded.  A side effect of on demand nursing (aside from sleepiness and sore nipples) was that he was now attuned to that particular cry.  Shortly it would grow louder with a rise and fall.  Shortly, it did.  Shiro released her from her swaddle and brought her over to Lance, who already had the body pillow in his lap and his sleep shirt open for her.</p><p>“Cálmate mijita,” Lance said soothingly, stroking her soft cheek to engage the rooting reflex.</p><p>There was the little pinch as she latched on, then the pins and needles sensation of his milk letting down, and finally the relief of Caro taking the pressure out of his teat.  Shiro had asked him once what it felt like, and the nearest analog he could think of was like the release that comes from emptying the bladder.  Shiro’s face at that deserved its own harmony cel, prompting Lance to remind him that he did ask.  In the days since, Shiro had changed enough dirty diapers to have lost whatever delicate sensibilities had prompted that expression.  Now he settled in beside Lance to lean against his side and watch his daughter nurse.  He knew that Lance could easily get overstimulated if he continued with the foot rub.</p><p>The foot rub could wait a while.  These peaceful moments together were precious in their own right.  Lance looked down into Caro’s sleepy eyes.  Mamá was convinced they were McClain eyes, though it was far too early to be sure.  Her skin was beginning to take on a hint of olive which made Lance believe she’d eventually have a skin tone similar to Veronica’s.  Again, it was early to be sure.</p><p>Everything in its time.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>The dilapidated old farm was swarming with law enforcement officers.  Thace walked through the tall grass around the building’s perimeter.  The abandoned property was located in an evacuated village within forbidden territory.  It was a stroke of luck that a security patrol caught Macidus Drew and Amue Herakles trying to hike out.  They’d been mistaken for adventure tourists until someone thought to run their fake I.D.s through IFRS.  The local officer leading the team searching the premises waved Thace over.</p><p>“You’ve found something?” Thace asked.</p><p>He had.  He led Thace into a small state-of-the-art laboratory, the presence of which the building’s crumbling exterior would not have betrayed.  Laid out on a gurney and hooked up to machines still running on a generator was none other than Zarkon Manigford, no longer missing but looking considerably worse for wear.</p><p>“Is he alive?”</p><p>“Barely.  He’s anemic and unresponsive.  The team medic isn’t sure if he’s going to survive being moved, but we can’t leave him here.”</p><p>Thace thought with grim satisfaction that Macidus Drew wasn’t going to be able to bluff his way out of this one.  The dominos should start falling rapidly now.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Hunk washed Sunny with the no-rinse soothing cleanser recommended by their pediatrician Doctor Jarre.  They had one of those flower-shaped sink inserts for when Sunny was able to be rinsed off with water, but until his umbilical stump fell off Hunk would sponge bathe him on a warm towel on the corner changing table.  He’d carefully wiped around the healing stump, which had dried up considerably over the past few days, then placed a dry washcloth over him, partly to keep him warm but also because Sunny had no control over his bladder yet.  Hunk and Keith had both been sprinkled several times from forgetting that little fun fact, which was kind of embarrassing since they both had the same kind of sprinkler system.  Hunk prepared a fresh warm washcloth and gently massaged the damp cloth over Sunny’s hair.</p><p>Sunny had a dense mop of baby fine black hair, which Doctor Jarre had warned them was likely to fall out within the next few months and might not look the same when it came back in.  Hunk was sure that Sunny would still have a luxuriant head of black hair when all was said and done, but whether it would be Seidou hair or Manabu hair was still a question.  Hunk dried Sunny’s hair with a fresh cloth and then gingerly dared to lift the dry washcloth out of the way to put a fresh diaper on him.  As he did so, he saw the dried stump fall off, leaving behind a raw fleshy dot on his child’s belly.</p><p>“Sunny, it’s your belly button!”</p><p>Sunny wriggled and made a discontented noise.</p><p>“I’m sorry buddy, you must be getting cold.”</p><p>Hunk was tucking the warm towel closer around Sunny’s little body to help him stay warm long enough to diaper him when a sleepy Keith came into the nursery behind him. Kosmo hovered in the doorway, respectful of baby space.</p><p>“I felt you, what– ”  Keith gasped as he stepped up beside Hunk.  “His belly button!”</p><p>“I know!”  Hunk lifted Sunny to slide a newborn diaper under him, but hesitated before closing it.  “That looks normal, right?”</p><p>“It looks like what Doctor Jarre said it should look like.”  Keith rummaged in the butler desk and came back over with the little keepsake box.  “We could email a picture to his office just to be on the safe side.”  He picked up the dried stump from the side of the changing table and put it in the box, then stood close to Hunk to lean over the baby.  “Who’s got a cute little messy button?” </p><p>Sunny cooed up at his parents, and then he peed before Hunk could get the diaper all the way closed.  Keith and Hunk laughed as they cleaned up.</p><p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p><p><br/>Shiro had taken his time painting the symbols for his daughter’s name, counting each stroke.  It was the largest calligraphy on the poster.  His and Lance’s names, and Carolína’s birthday, were much smaller by comparison.  The poster was framed and placed above Caro’s crib, which she wasn’t yet sleeping in regularly, though she would be eventually.  But today she was settled into the crib in a white smocked gown and cap while her family took pictures.</p><p>“It’s beautiful, Shiro.”  Lance smiled up at him, and his mother agreed with him.  Shiro scratched the back of his neck, proud and embarrassed at the same time.</p><p>“It is lovely shodō, Ani,” Kuro said.</p><p>“The number of strokes is very auspicious,” Haruka said, and she should know, as she did keep track of such things.</p><p>“The baby is cute too,” said Kai, his face too serene to guess if he was poking fun.</p><p>“Yeah, you do good work as a general rule.”  Lance’s grin was less ambiguous in that regard.</p><p>Shiro took his share of pictures and sent copies to a select group of people.  Eventually Lance took Caro out of her crib and they all filtered downstairs for a celebratory meal of sweet red beans and sticky rice with whole grilled red snapper.  Unlike on a previous occasion when such a meal had been put before her, this time Midori was able to consume some of the feast.  They all enjoyed one another as much as the food, but in time Lance had to take Caro back upstairs to nurse and then prepare her for bed before snatching whatever sleep he could.</p><p>Shiro allowed himself a fond moment standing in the doorway to the bedroom watching over them.  Lance in his sleep mask, thrilled to be able to sprawl comfortably on his back again.  Caro in the bassinet, black fluff of hair a sweet contrast to the milk pale swaddle and mattress, her own little face like white tea.  Shiro’s place waited between them, but first he had a phone call to return.  He went upstairs to his office, not wanting to disturb anyone else trying to relax in the house.  Shinji picked up after only a few rings.</p><p>“How is your building going?” Shiro asked after they’d traded greetings.  He knew that the initial building stage was complete and now they were finishing the interiors in preparation for outfitting it with furniture and equipment.</p><p><em>“It is going well,”</em> Shinji replied.  <em>“I have a couple of projects lined up as soon as the studio is made ready for recording.  I would ask how your project is going, but I received the pictures.  Very lovely work.  Did you paraphrase a lyric from “Summer Breeze” by any chance?”</em></p><p>Shiro should have realized that wouldn’t slip past Shinji.  “Okaa-san used to sing that song all the time in the car.”  In rental cars on their trips together, that is.  They’d always had a driver at home.</p><p><em>“It was her favorite warmup song at conservatory,”</em> Shinji said.  <em>“I think she would have liked what you did.”</em></p><p>As Shiro closed out his call and headed back downstairs to his family, he hoped that Shinji was right.  He indulged himself in another moment of standing over them, reaching down to stroke the downy hair from Caro’s forehead when she shifted in the swaddle.  She gave a little baby sigh and fell back to sleep.  He got into bed and gathered Lance to him, still soft and sweet-smelling from the pregnancy.  Lance mumbled in his sleep but didn’t wake.  Shiro held him close and felt very blessed.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I felt like the fic's primary momentum was the births, and that point was reached in this chapter, so it does feel complete to me even though I also feel like there are scenes that could still be added.  If you feel there are plot points that don't feel complete, let me know in the comments and I'll write an epilogue.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Epilogue: Ooh Child</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>OnE yEaR lAtEr...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you, thank you, thank you to everybody who read, kudoed and commented.  You guys give me life.  Thank you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>For the Garretts, a child’s first birthday party was a major event.  It wasn’t just about cake and ice cream, although those treats were available in abundance at the party.  It was a festive blowout meant to celebrate the child making it through the crucial first year.  Not incidentally, they were also celebrating the parents making it through that same year, and since the child in question shared his birthday with the children of two other sets of close friends and the Garretts were gracious folk, the party being hosted in Gyrgan Garrett’s backyard was for three children turning one year-old that day.  Nanette Dayak, never one to be outdone, had rented a bouncy castle for the backyard bash.  Thus far the adults had been getting a lot more enjoyment out of it than the babies were likely to do.</p>
<p>Shiro, having experienced Garrett hospitality before, had decided to pitch in on the grocery bill instead.  The Garretts had made good use of it, serving up a cornucopia of barbecued meats, bound salads, dessert bars, and an answer to the call of ‘what can we put on the grill’ (turns out, lots of things).  There was an elaborate piñata cake made by Sunny’s grandmothers.  Also, there were coolers full of beer and soft drinks, as this party was not just for the kids.  Shiro was happily chewing the fat with Hunk as they took a turn watching the babies play together on a blanket while their spouses took a turn playing in the bouncy castle.  In addition to newly minted one year-olds Caro, Sunny and Nanette Alfora Hieronoma Dayak, twenty-one month-old Banon and sixteen month-old Mariel also played with blocks, cups and wooden knob puzzles on the sun-warmed blanket.</p>
<p>Shiro and his family had been in San Francisco just the week before to attend the stateside wedding of Shiro’s little brother and Banon’s aunt.  They’d stayed in the Nihonjin-Machi house, which would probably be their last stay there for a while, as Mariel and her parents were going to be moving in on a long-term lease.  Shay was pregnant again, and she and Allura had realized that their apartment was too small for their growing family.  They’d come to this realization at right about the same time Shiro had been given notice that he could no longer rent the house out for stays of less than thirty days’ duration unless he lived on site for far more of the year than he could afford to stay away from New York.  A conversation had ensued and a deal had been struck, and Shiro had no regrets about it.</p>
<p>Kuro and Pidge were on their honeymoon in Venice, Italy, after which they’d be going to Matsumoto to have their second wedding.  Shiro and his family would be going overseas to attend that wedding as well.  Haruka and Kai had taken Midori back to New York to prepare the house and all of their luggage for that trip, as well as check in with Omnia and Antor to make sure they were fine to cat sit Atlas for a little while longer or if they needed Rachel and Daniel to take a turn with him.  They had a crawler in the house, and while Atlas knew how to stay out of the way of baby hands, it could still be disconcerting to walk into a room and find the cat perched on top of a tall appliance or bookshelf.</p>
<p>Kai and Haruka had experienced a taste of traveling with toddlers and gone home determined to come up with activities to keep both girls occupied for the longer trans-Pacific flights.  Midori had reached the demon age of two, but she would grow out of it.  She had been a happy, agreeable baby and would probably be a happy, agreeable child once more someday.  Meanwhile, Shiro’s daughter had grown into a loud bundle of energy, and while he’d like to blame that on Lance’s genes, he was pretty sure she got at least some of that dramatic flair from him.  He could only count his good fortune that Caro’s incisors had broken through with relatively little drama and hoped that when her molars broke through it would be after the upcoming long plane rides, and not during.</p>
<p>Shiro was now one of those parents who smiled sheepishly at fellow travelers while his child babbled excitedly to anyone in her immediate vicinity.  She could only say ‘mamá,’ ‘papá,’ ‘banana,’ and ‘Poco Rojo’ (what she called her sarubobo doll, though she could not yet roll her R’s like her mother) but that didn’t stop her from trying to communicate with anyone who might be within earshot.  That kid yammering one aisle away in shops and making other shoppers giggle while wondering who she was yammering at?  That kid was Shiro’s kid, and she was yammering at him or her mother, or sometimes her aunt.  She was currently regaling Hunk with a string of syllables that sounded like she knew what she was saying, except that whatever she was saying was not in any of the three languages she heard regularly at home.  Hunk nodded and said ‘mmm hmm’ and Shiro was glad to have such a kind and patient friend.</p>
<p>Caro was dressed for the day in a ruffled romper and a flower crown over her black hair.  She had a lot of it, especially in the front; Lance was constantly combing it out of her dark blue eyes.  The ruffly romper had been a gift made by Caro’s grandmother, who had thankfully backed off of the suggestion to pierce her ears.  Shiro understood that infant piercing was regarded as a simple practicality in Vibiana’s culture, but in the culture he’d been raised in, piercings could have a detrimental effect on highly competitive school applications.  It was hard to tamp down his knee jerk reaction of worrying that she’d never be admitted to school if he allowed the pierced ears, even while knowing that his refusal almost guaranteed that it would become her act of teenage rebellion some day.  He’d acquiesced to the little gold ID bracelet, though, and if Lance occasionally also pinned the little black and red charm that was supposed to protect her from the evil eye to her clothes, Shiro didn’t really have a problem with that either.</p>
<p>Shiro was distracted from his musings by Hunk’s son giving him a wooden block.  Shiro accepted the block with a solemn ‘thank you’ and was rewarded with one of Sunny’s big smiles.  He was quite possibly the happiest baby Shiro had ever met.  In most respects Sunny was the spitting image of Keith, from the wild black locks to the grey-blue eyes to the subtle asymmetry of his smile.  His skin tone was a golden shade slightly warmer and deeper than Caro’s light olive and no doubt a contribution from Hunk, along with his happy go lucky disposition.  Keith and Hunk had put him in an orange polo shirt and dungaree shorts, with a safety pin on his collar that didn’t look precisely like the charm Caro sometimes wore, but Shiro knew a protection charm when he was looking at one.  A kid this cute and personable probably needed such protection.</p>
<p>Coran and Nanette’s baby, whom they called ‘Nan’ for short, grizzled as she tried to put a wooden puzzle piece into her mouth.  Nan was teething.  Sunny patted her foot and babbled out something that sounded comforting for all that it was unintelligible.  Hunk fished her teething ring out of the cooler and passed it to Shiro, who placed it into her little hands.  Nan’s parents had put her in polka dot leggings and a t-shirt declaring her age in sparkly gold, along with a little floppy hat that matched the leggings.  Red hair burst out around the brim of the floppy hat on all sides, but especially in the front.  Nan grasped the cold teething ring and jammed it into her mouth with relief that was almost palpable.</p>
<p>Laughter rang across the backyard as Lance, Keith and Coran returned from playing in the bouncy castle with the three oldest kids.  They were dressed in cotton shirts and jeans like most of the adults at the party.  Lance’s hips in those jeans had rounded very slightly, in spite of his rigorous devotion to postnatal Pilates and doubling down on karate.  It was probably imperceptible to anyone who didn’t look at those hips on a daily basis like Shiro did.  He didn’t mind it at all, considering them a badge of honor and a reminder that those hips had once cradled their precious daughter, except lately Lance had been making noises about giving Caro a sibling and citing the hips as evidence that he could do it.  Shiro would tell him that childbearing hips were a euphemism that didn’t necessarily correlate to easier births, and Lance would sass back that the hips don’t lie (and then he’d start dancing and singing that song, and those hips actually made good handles if Shiro was being perfectly honest with himself).</p>
<p>Lance dropped down beside Shiro on those slightly rounded hips and grinned at him as Coran thanked him and Hunk profusely for watching out for his daughter.  Nanette had gone with Allura to pick up another surprise present while Shay had gone into the kitchen to help Krolia and Alana finish getting the smash cakes ready.  A couple of Lance’s siblings had taken off somewhere plotting another surprise, which Shiro sincerely hoped was dancing or horses, and not a clown.  “We saw what you did,” Lance said.</p>
<p>“It was a team effort,” Shiro said, reaching out to trade fist-bumps with Hunk, upon whom Keith had sprawled out as extravagantly as the prince royal he played in their Monsters &amp; Mana sessions.</p>
<p>“Rah-rah team,” Matt said as he and Ryan joined them on the blanket.  Banon looked up from his game of stacking cups with Mariel to get some affection from his parents.  With his head full of springy copper curls and his sweet little goofy laugh, he was so cute that Shiro didn’t have the heart to tell his parents that he was mere months away from turning into an unholy terror.  They’d find out soon enough.  If a kid as even-tempered as Midori could turn, then nobody was safe.</p>
<p>Another team effort: getting rooms at the hotel where Kuro and Pidge’s second wedding reception was going to be held.  As head of household, it was well within Shiro’s rights to request staying in the villa which had been built by one of his own ancestors.  However, doing so would require him to face some more personal demons while at the same time staying under the same roof with Tatsuo.  His stepmother had mellowed a bit more since marrying Shinji, who had changed his surname to Shirogane in order to avoid a legal challenge for the land from Shiro’s cousin Rei (who was expected at Kuro’s wedding reception, and also expected to make backhanded comments about the allocation of the land, so they were hoping to limit her toasting opportunities).  Tatsuo and Shinji had a baby on the way whom they planned to name Ise, regardless of gender, using a kanji symbol for dragon as a subtle acknowledgment to Ryu.  Shiro was truly happy for them, but he was happier still to waive his right to stay in the villa so that Tatsuo and Shinji could instead play host to Sam and Colleen Holt.</p>
<p>Shiro and his household would be staying in the large tatami suite at the hotel, and the Holt-Kinkades would be sharing one of the Western style suites with Pidge.  This could not have been carried off without the cooperation of the Holts themselves, whose agreement to stay in the villa had taken the heat off of Shiro to accept the invitation which Tatsuo had been duty-bound to offer.  Going to Obon with Kuro had given Shiro a great deal more peace, but there were still memories waiting in that house that he’d just as soon put off for a less emotional event than a wedding (of all things).  Kuro would be staying in his old bedroom on the villa’s second floor.  There were some traditions Tatsuo wanted to observe that could be more practically accomplished with that arrangement.</p>
<p>Lance leaned against Shiro, who threw an arm around him and kissed the side of his head.  Maybe Shiro could talk Lance into waiting until Caro was in preschool before trying again.  That would be more practical, and Caro would have entered the demon age herself by then.  Maybe Lance would even change his mind about having a second child and then Shiro wouldn’t have to buy majority stock in a company that makes antacids in order to treat his inevitable stress ulcer.  Daily exposure to Midori hadn’t changed Lance’s mind one iota, but Shiro was going to let himself entertain that fantasy for a little while longer.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Colleen sat in her home office clicking through photographs instead of sorting through clothes to pack like her husband was doing upstairs.  The wedding photographer had cc’d her on the sneak peek email.  Her daughter's wedding had taken place at the Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Park.  Colleen still wasn’t sure exactly what had caused Pidge to change her mind about a scifi wedding in Vegas, but she was grateful for it, even though she’d had to relent to a cocktail hour served by food trucks on the Palm Terrace.  It wouldn’t be Pidge if something about it hadn’t been extremely casual.  The guests had enjoyed it and they’d had a lovely reception on the terrace lawns afterward.</p>
<p>They’d also had a lot of great photo opportunities inside the greenhouse exhibits.  Colleen paused her clicking to take in a photo of the happy couple in the potted plant exhibit.  Kuro had worn a Juliet cap over loose hair with a flowy v-neck frock trimmed in needle lace, very boho.  Pidge had worn an ivory halter-neck jumpsuit without a stitch of lace or beading on it, though there was a little on the headband holding her hair out of her face.  They both looked radiantly elated in the photograph, their outfits forming a point of contrast against all the flowers and green surrounding them.  Colleen was definitely going to order this picture.</p>
<p>A video chat alert interrupted her photo browsing session.  Thace must have noticed she was online.  Hopefully he had better news to impart this time.  Zarkon Manigford had survived being transported all the way to Queen Square but remained in a vegetative state, unable to tell anyone who had abducted him.  The circumstances under which he’d been found created a more far-reaching ripple effect than anything Lotor had been involved with thus far, but the fact remained that he resided in a country with no extradition treaties with either the US or the UK.  He and his grandfather-in-law were now under Red Notice, which still didn’t mean either of them would be extradited, although there was an increasingly likely chance that Lotor would get deported.</p>
<p>With a hope in her heart, Colleen answered the call.  Her hope was partially rewarded.</p>
<p>
  <em>“He’s being deported, but they’re allowing him to take the Gulfstream G650.”</em>
</p>
<p>Lotor owned a private jet with one of the longest range capabilities on the market.  The authorities in his spouse’s country would only track him out of their own airspace and ensure he didn't reenter it.  Once he left, there were a number of other destinations open to him, limited primarily by how well he’d prepared the plane for flight prior to leaving, his own energy reserves and his copilot’s willingness to bend the rules of the sky.</p>
<p>“Do we know who he’s flying with?”  The G650 could technically be flown by one pilot in an emergency situation, but it wasn’t certified for solo flights.  There was no way he’d be permitted to take off without a copilot.</p>
<p>
  <em>“He’s yet to register a flight plan, but the most likely person to be chosen for the job is Herreh.”</em>
</p>
<p>The bodyguard who, according to recent reports, was antsy to get out of there and maybe not so loyal to his boss these days.  “Hope that plane’s supplied with good parachutes.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“If Lotor turns off his communications systems, we’ll know where to start looking for him.”</em>
</p>
<p>If Lotor did try to ditch out, he’d have to go to the back of beyond first to have any hope of getting away with it.  He’d probably win his freedom at the cost of severely foreshortening his life if he tried to pull off something that crazy stupid.</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Mama, more!”  Sincline had toddled over to the couch to gaze up at his mother out of wide blue eyes.  He had his mother’s face framed by his father’s pale blond hair.  Time would tell whose personality he took more after, though Saint saw signs of both of them in their son.</p>
<p>He obligingly restarted the recording of Prokofiev’s <em>Peter and the Wolf</em>.  Sincline never seemed to grow tired of it.  The child returned to his toys on the rug as Saint returned to his conversation with his great grandfather.  They were sharing tea in the solar.</p>
<p>“I hope you’re not considering attempting a test on my son anytime soon.”  Saint sipped tea and contemplated the snack tray, which had been prepared with resentful competence by Urinska.  Perhaps he should avoid the smoked fish sandwich.  It was early yet to be concerned about it, but one could never be too careful in such matters.  A scone with jam would suffice to whet his appetite.</p>
<p>“As long as nothing happens to my cryopreserved samples, there will be no need to rush into things.”  Maahox stirred raspberry jam into his tea and helped himself to a sandwich.  “I would prefer to run more extensive trials beforehand in any case.”</p>
<p>Saint could still go wherever his funds and secondary gender would allow, but Maahox’s mobility was greatly impacted by the Red Notice.  No longer could he afford to travel outside of the safety of his home country, or even all that much within it, but thanks to the benefaction of the Lanier-Manigfords, the manor was now a comfortable place to while his twilight years.  Thanks to the benefaction of an oligarch desperate for an alpha heir, Maahox also had plenty of resources to continue his research into the demystification of secondary gender selection.  Saint was confident that he would have a reliable genetic therapy treatment ready by the time Sincline was eight years-old.  Who knows, he might not even need it.  Sincline might turn out to be a natural born alpha after all.</p>
<p>If not Sincline, there would soon enough be another contender for the title of Lord Manigford.  Saint had made sure to give his husband a proper sendoff before seeing him out the front door where a military escort was waiting to deliver him to the airfield – after taking fertility treatments, of course.  Maybe he was soon to become a merry widow or a gay divorcée; Lotor had turned out to be a reasonably good husband all things considered, but even he would have to agree that the best way to look out for Sincline’s interests was to ensure he wasn’t hobbled by disgraceful associations.  Maybe Saint would even return to the sun drenched state where he’d grown up.  His mother had extended an invitation to come and stay, provided he understood that invitation was solely for himself and his children.  One thing he did intend to remain was a mother, and a mother always made sure his children had options. </p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Well, what do you think?”</p>
<p>Mary Ann unlocked the front door and stepped aside so that Lorn could come in and see the place.  On the curb, Henrietta still had the ‘just married’ sign on her rear windshield, a souvenir of the courthouse wedding they’d just come from.  After months of searching, more months of closing and yet more months of bringing this house in Lawndale up to code, they were finally ready to move in.  The old house was still a fixer upper, but it was a fixer upper they could sleep in without worrying about a gas leak now.  Lorn stepped through the foyer and looked around the front rooms.  There were outdated cabinets in the kitchen, wall-to-wall carpet in far more rooms than was fashionable anymore, and the ugliest wallpaper Mary Ann had ever seen, but it was clean and something about it felt like a home regardless of the chintzy decor.</p>
<p>Lorn came back over beaming out his sweet smile.  “I think it’s got amazing potential.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“You got more guts than I do.”  Mongo accepted the key to the efficiency apartment from Rolo’s hand and passed over the keys to the one bedroom in the multifamily building he managed.  “Why don’t you just shack up?  Safer that way.  Less to sort out if it goes wrong.”</p>
<p>Rolo had thought of doing that, actually.  The business was thriving.  He didn’t need the tax breaks marriage could provide to afford rent on sharing the bigger apartment with Nyma.  Combining their finances in the ways marriage demanded would complicate things if their relationship hit another rough spot.  Nyma was a complicated woman, prone to impetuous decisions.  In spite of all of that, he loved her and didn’t anticipate that changing, ever.</p>
<p>“When you know you’ve met the one, you just gotta roll with it.”</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>“Are you thinking about opening up new locations?”</p>
<p>Nanette and Hunk were keeping an eye on their kids eating scrambled eggs and oatmeal while Coran and Keith leaned over the jukebox across the dining room picking out tunes.  They were having brunch together at one of Coran’s favorite old diners before the Smythe-Dayaks flew home to Brooklyn Heights.  Hunk turned Nanette’s question over in his mind as he watched a bite of scrambled egg wobble off the side of Sunny’s spoon.</p>
<p>“Uh oh,” Sunny said.</p>
<p>“You got it buddy,” Hunk said encouragingly, as Sunny picked up the eggy bite in a pincer grasp and brought it up to his mouth.  The toddler triumphantly ate his bite of egg and Hunk praised him, earning himself a cute baby chuckle from his son.</p>
<p>Across the table, little Nan tried to maneuver a spoon of oatmeal into her mouth while Nanette struggled not to reach down and do it for her.  The child was successful in getting the spoon to her face, but as much of the oatmeal was winding up on her rosy cheeks as in her tummy.  Nan didn’t seem as perturbed about this as Nanette did.</p>
<p>“It’s a big step,” Hunk said finally.  “I’d probably have to quit my job.  There’s no way the moms could handle it alone.”</p>
<p>Expanding the Sweet &amp; Savory Sisters into a chain was a risk, but particularly so because they wanted to keep with the present business model of live/work locations for omega apprentices.  The Mid-City location was a roaring success, but that wasn’t an ironclad guarantee that other locations would be.  If a business location failed, the omega apprentices at that location could wind up in a precarious situation.  In addition to that, the moms were already heavily invested in the first location, not just financially but also in terms of time spent training the apprentices.  Some of them showed a level of talent and initiative which meant they could be promoted as floor managers at new locations, which would help the moms avoid spreading themselves too thin, but there was no question that Hunk would have to become more actively involved in the running of the business.  In order to do that and still have time for his family, he’d have no choice but to resign his position at the hotel, as it would be terribly unfair to expect Keith to leave his high flying career to take on that much of a time commitment.</p>
<p>“I would be interested in investing if you choose to expand.”  Nanette finally couldn’t withstand the urge to wipe her child’s face clean with a napkin.  “I believe in your business acumen.”</p>
<p>“Wow, that’s... thank you.”</p>
<p>For Nanette to say that meant a lot.  She hadn’t rested on her late husband’s pension and investments, choosing to become actively involved in maintaining her own portfolio which kept her even more comfortably well-off than she otherwise would have been.  She knew from business acumen and wouldn’t indulge in such a comment just to make Hunk feel better.</p>
<p>“I’m merely stating a fact,” Nanette said.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  We’ve come a long, long way together through the hard times and the good  ♬</em>
</p>
<p>Over at the jukebox, Keith and Coran had finally finished making their selections and started walking back to the table.  As the chorus bounced into the hook on a wave of synths, Sunny started wiggling his little body back and forth in the high chair.  He loved dancing.  Across the table, Nan also started her own toddler version of dancing, attempting a springy pogo maneuver in her high chair.  Oatmeal went flying.  Keith and Coran laughed as they rejoined the others, Keith tickling Sunny and making him giggle as Coran cleaned up after Nan.</p>
<p>
  <em>♬  I have to praise you like I should  ♬</em>
</p>
<p><br/>*~*~*~*~*</p>
<p><br/>Lance kept a close eye on his daughter babbling at Poco Rojo which she’d propped up in her own car seat as they sat together in the family section of Oneworld Lounge at LAX.  Heaven help everybody’s eardrums if they accidentally left that doll in the lounge.  They’d already enjoyed a sampling of toddler vocals earlier, when the Shinobus arrived back from New York and Midori had decided she’d had quite enough of airplanes and would not be going on another one.  She decided this at great volume, unwilling to be distracted until Lance had offered to help her use the lounge’s pancake machine.  He was feeling a lot fresher than poor Haruka because he and Shiro had stayed over at the Beverly Wilshire instead of making a run back to New York.  Now Haruka was sacked out on the lounge’s L-shaped couch, as Midori, crashing on pancake overload, napped beside her.</p>
<p>They were flying first class to Tokyo where they’d take the Skyliner to Shinji’s and Kuro’s apartments and spend the night, before taking the limited express train the rest of the way to Matsumoto the following day.  Shiro had booked the entire first class compartment of their flight, which they were sharing with Sam and Colleen Holt.  The Holt-Kinkades were traveling Space-A and would meet them in Matsumoto.  With all eight sky suites occupied by their combined families, the chances of disturbing a stranger’s long flight with toddler meltdowns was greatly reduced.  This would be Lance’s first trip to Japan, and he couldn’t wait.  He looked up when Shiro strolled over to hand him a glass of white wine from the lounge bar.</p>
<p>“You sure you want to give up this for another one of those?”  Shiro nodded to the chilled wine Lance was drinking, and then to their one year-old trying to feed a Lego to Poco Rojo while calling it a banana.  To be fair to the baby, the Lego brick was yellow, but Poco Rojo still didn’t have a mouth to speak of.</p>
<p>“Eventually,” Lance said, leaning into Shiro’s side as he sat down next to him.  “I think you’re right that we should wait until Caro’s in preschool though.”  He could feel Shiro relaxing at the assumption that he still had time to talk him out of it.  “I don’t think I’m going to change my mind about this, querido.”</p>
<p>“If you still want her to have the sibling experience, Midori’s already like a big sister to her.”</p>
<p>It was true that the girls played and occasionally squabbled like sisters.  Watching them reminded Lance of how his cousin Barros would come and stay with them sometimes when his abuela was feeling too under the weather to keep him out of trouble.  He would run wild with the younger siblings, tease the older ones, and get scolded by Mamá just like he was one of them, at least up to a point.  The saying went that it took a village to raise a child, but when one of the villagers had an abuela who could hiss like an angry cocodrilo, there was an invisible line which they could go right up to but not cross.  He saw that line in play with Caro and Midori just often enough to know that they would grow up like sisters, but not as sisters.  It was a very subtle distinction, but it was there.</p>
<p>“I want her to know what it’s like to have someone in her life who also knows what it’s like to be our child, who has to follow the exact same rules and catch the same kind of trouble for breaking them.  I want her to know what it’s like to have someone who sees through her defenses but will also defend her to strangers.  I even want her to know what it’s like to have deal with someone giving her stupid nicknames and hogging the bathroom when she’s trying to get ready for a date.”</p>
<p>“Now I’m feeling robbed.”</p>
<p>Lance hugged Shiro and purred to soothe him.  Shiro also had a sibling, but he’d missed out on a lot of time with Kuro.  He was catching up fast, but the past was impossible to restore.  Shiro’s arms came up around Lance to rub his back.</p>
<p>“When Caro is in preschool we could try again, but I want you to get a full work up from Doctor Gorma beforehand.”  Shiro leaned back to look into Lance’s eyes.  “I don’t want to take any chances that are preventable.”</p>
<p>Lance smiled.  “Okay.”</p>
<p>They indulged in a quick kiss before turning their attention back to their daughter.  Just a split second could be all that was needed for her to make a big mess.  She was still playing with Poco Rojo, her striped leggings and blue t-shirt unmussed, shoelaces still tied, hair a little wild but that could be combed down again easily, at least nothing was stuck in it this time, wait where was the Lego?  Lance suffered a mini melodrama in his head in which he rushed Caro to the emergency room to remove a Lego from her stomach, when Caro picked up the yellow brick from underneath Poco Rojo where it must have fallen, and started poking it at the doll’s face again.</p>
<p>“Poco.”  <em>Poke, poke</em>.  “Nana.”</p>
<p>“Ay de mi.”  Lance relaxed again into Shiro’s loose embrace and then took a nice long drink from the wine glass.</p>
<p>Shiro laughed.  “And you still want to do this all again.”</p>
<p>Lance grinned at him, feeling the warm current of growing anticipation underneath Shiro’s amusement.  “Yeah, I do.”</p>
<p>Deciding that he wanted to make a family with this man was the best epiphany Lance had ever had.  He was so grateful to past him for sticking to his guns and not letting this dream slip away.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that's a wrap.  :)  Possibly for a while, unless I get a wild hair of an idea.  Thanks again for reading, everybody!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Life has been extra unpredictable lately, as I'm sure it has been for everyone, so I honestly can't promise an update schedule, but I'm going to at least try to bust out the first few chapters fast-ish for JuLance.  I always have to fix the formatting when I post, so that does take some time and I might miss a formatting error.  Or a few.  Sorry about that.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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